


En Vacances

by nimiumcaelo



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Chekov/Joanna but not really, Crack, Gen, really just people hanging out, vacation gone wrong, you could find preslash anything tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimiumcaelo/pseuds/nimiumcaelo
Summary: The crew of the Enterprise + Joanna go on shore leave. Glorious loads of stupid stuff happens and this is mostly just one long humorous escapade. I'm bad at descriptions but this is seriously funny so just read it.





	En Vacances

It had been several weeks since Joanna McCoy had joined the Enterprise crew for an unknown amount of time. At first, most of the crew had treated her with distant respect; most of them were rather frightened of the possible actions her father might take if any of them got too friendly. Only Lieutenant Uhura and Ensign Chekov had had the guts to speak to her, and in fact they had taken to eating meals together more often than not and hanging out in the deck 4 lounge in their off-time. Sometimes Sulu would join them, sometimes Nurse Chapel, and occasionally even the Captain himself sat down at their little table to shoot the breeze. The Doctor, however, did not engage with the group and would sit never farther than two tables away and glare in the direction of the male group members, which was really just Chekov.   
Chekov and Joanna had grown close over the course of the latter’s stay, and while nobody could say that they were actually dating, they had both become a little more than friendly. Chekov would insinuate something and Joanna would respond amusedly, or Joanna would say something flattering and Chekov would retaliate. Nothing actually came about from it besides the growth of their friendship, but fathers will be fathers and Dr. McCoy was having none of it.   
The first time he’d caught Joanna talking with Chekov he had pulled her aside and berated her for hanging around that “piece of Russian filth.” Chekov, who (most probably due to foresight on the doctor’s part) was within hearing-range, let out an indignant huff and was about to defend himself when he was led away by Sulu, who was saying something about picking battles and saving your breath.   
The next few times Joanna was caught with Chekov, the doctor didn’t say anything but simply looked at her in profound reproach. She would pointedly ignore him and increase her affectionate actions towards Chekov. If that made Chekov start hanging around both father and daughter more often, nobody noticed. (Okay, a lot of people noticed, but nobody said anything.)   
Finally, when the crew was scheduled for three days of shore leave, Chekov invited Joanna to go out to an old Terran movie theater with him to screen an antique Russian film. She agreed enthusiastically and they made their plans. Due to the doctor’s never being out of sight when the two younger crewmembers were together, he heard and thus made his own plans to view the film as well. Kirk found out and joined the doctor, and then Spock said something about needing to speak to the captain about certain reports to be filed and how it would be logical to observe the behaviors of humans in different situations and eventually Kirk just chuckled and said he could come along.   
So there they all were, with Chekov and Joanna near the front, McCoy seated directly behind his daughter and Chekov, and Kirk next to McCoy. Spock was at first going to sit beside the captain but then made an excuse about Vulcan personal space requirements and hid up in the highest row. As he sat down, he pulled out a notebook and a pen and started writing observations. Every now and again someone could hear him whisper, “fascinating.“   
During the movie, which ended up being rather funny, Chekov pretended to yawn and draped his arm across the back of Joanna’s chair. She looked at him and smiled with a raised eyebrow - "really?” He just winked at her and the two waited for the time bomb that was her father to blow up. He gave two heavy sighs and eventually crossed his legs in such a way that his knee bumped Chekov’s elbow off the back of the seat and into his own lap. Chekov then promptly placed his arm back across the back of the seat and McCoy knocked it off again.   
This continued for about two minutes, until Kirk got annoyed and asked them to shut up and watch the d— movie, at which point Joanna placed her arm around Chekov and McCoy did not dare to knock it off. Spock was writing this all down in scribbled Vulcan shorthand, not daring to miss a beat of the excitement. This would all feature greatly in his newest scientific article on human behaviors during courting, a topic which very few Vulcan scientists had bothered to spend much time studying. When Joanna started playing with Chekov’s hair, Spock noted religiously the way that the doctor’s shoulders twitched and he bit his lip aggressively.  
The screen got darker and excited violin music started playing. There was a monster waiting around a corner for some beautiful girl - completely unaware that she was walking right into a trap. The suspense built wonderfully; everyone was on the edge of their seats. Finally, he jumped! Joanna covered her mouth with her hands and Chekov curled his face away, focusing on the stitches of Joanna’s shirt. He wasn’t scared, of course not, he was just interested in seeing how Joanna was doing. Definitely.  
During the whole fiasco with the monster, Kirk had fallen dramatically onto McCoy’s lap and was moaning about Russian films and their stupid monsters and special effects. McCoy was fuming. Due to Kirk’s being literally on top of him, he couldn’t see what Chekov and Joanna were doing. Spock’s scribbling got faster and more frantic.  
McCoy shoved at Kirk to get off of him.  
“Get your hide off of me, you ninny!”  
“But Bones! The monster!” Kirk covered his face with his hands.  
“I don’t care two ticks for your silly monster,” McCoy gave another shove. “Just get off of me, will you? I need to see past you, Jim.”  
Pouting, Jim flopped off of the doctor. He grumbled but was actually grinning in the dark. At this point, the scary part of the movie had finished and Chekov and Joanna were back to casually lounging against each other, mostly just to rile up McCoy.  
Once the movie finished, everyone filed out of the theater and started heading back to the hotel where they all were staying.  
“Do you think your father will hate me forever?” Chekov whispered to Joanna under his breath.  
“Oh, definitely,” she replied.  
“Good thing I don’t like him, then.”  
“He’s not that bad. I mean, he’s a bit annoying - okay, really annoying sometimes - but it’s not like he’d ever actually keep me away from something I wanted. Or, y'know, someone.”  
“Oh-ho-ho let me tell you something, Joanna, that you will not like to hear. Your father is a creeper of the first order.”  
“Whaaat?” Joanna looked at him incredulously.  
“It’s true! Whenever I go for a doctor’s visit, he’s always standing there grinning as I take off my shirt. It’s creepy!”  
“Pavel, he’s a doctor. He watches everyone take off their shirt; that’s not creepy.”  
“But he was smiling!” Chekov threw his arms up for emphasis.  
“He’s a friendly guy!”  
“Well that’s not all. He also just loves to tickle me.”  
“Tickle you?” Joanna raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “My father tickles you?”  
“Yes, he does. I’m very ticklish and he uses that to his own sinister advantage. He presses all over my stomach and will not stop to let me breathe.”  
“Do you even know what doctor’s visits are supposed to be like? He’s pressing on your stomach to make sure all your internal organs are fine. You’re just paranoid, dude, lighten up.”  
“You would not be calling me paranoid if you had him chase you around the halls with a hypo screaming about some vaccination you forgot about when you filed your medical report for Starfleet. I had all my vaccinations when I was a little child in Russia (they were invented there, you know) and I will not stand for having them again!”  
“Alright, alright.” Joanna opened the door to the hotel and waited for Chekov to pass. “But my dad’s not a creep.”  
“Is to.”  
“Is not.”  
“Is to.”  
“Is not.”  
“Is to.”  
“Is not.”  
“Is.”  
“Not.”  
“Is.”  
“Not.”  
“Will you two shut up?!” Kirk shouted from across the lobby at them. They both blushed and started giggling. McCoy was grumbling and glaring daggers at Chekov, who was saying good-night to Joanna.  
“I hope your evening was lovely, fair lady,” he kissed her hand.  
“It was, my good sir,” she curtsied.  
They waved and walked their separate directions - Chekov going to the third floor with the other lower-ranking officers and Joanna going to the fifth with her father.  
Because the planet they were visiting was not super large, and thus the hotel did not have as many rooms as could be wished, and adding onto that the fact that the Enterprise crew was quite large, everyone had to share a room with at least one other person. Several red shirts had been rooming in groups of three and even four, though the group of four was formed due to personal request and not some spacial requirement. The two McCoys were together in a room, Kirk and Spock were in another one, and the rest of the bridge crew were free to decide who they wanted to room with. Chekov was going to invite Uhura to join him and Sulu in a room, but was shot down by the fact that the rooms could not be co-ed (except, of course, in the case of family). Uhura said that it didn’t matter and went off to find one of her other friends to room with.  
So Chekov and Sulu were sitting cross-legged on their beds, whispering fervently about trampolines.  
“I tell you - they were invented in Russia by a little old man from Petersburg.”  
“That’s ridiculous! I’m pretty sure they were invented by some Native Americans or something.”  
“That was lacrosse, not trampolines!”  
“Well - same difference.”  
“They are nothing alike, Hikaru.”  
“They’re both fun?”  
“Fun? Really? That’s what you’re going with?”  
“Yes, yes it is.”  
“Okay, good for you. I still say they were invented in Russia.”  
“You say that about everything, though.”  
“So? It’s true.”  
Sulu sighed. “I should get you a label maker or something. Just stick a little ‘made in Russia’ sticker on whatever you see.”  
“That would be amazing, actually.”  
“You wanna go see if they have any in the gift shop down in the lobby?”  
“Yes.”  
“Alright,” Sulu pushed himself off the bed and walked quietly over to the door. “But we gotta be quick and do not make any noise, Pavel, seriously. I don’t want Spock chasing me back to bed. That’s just a whole ‘nother level of creepy there.”  
“Ha yes. That or Doctor McCoy.”  
“Eugh, don’t even make me think about that.”  
They snuck down the hallway and waited for the elevator.  
“This hotel is kind of cool,” Chekov said as he turned to look at Sulu.  
“Yeah. All old-fashioned stuff. It’s neat.”  
The elevator dinged and they stepped in.  
Meanwhile, in Kirk and Spock’s room, Kirk was seated at the desk playing a video game on a hand-held device and Spock was lying on his bed reviewing messages sent to him by various crewmembers. Kirk’s game beeped and he sighed.  
“Dang it, lost again.”  
“If you continue to lose, Captain, would it not be wise to revise your strategy or possibly stop playing?”  
“That would be giving up, Spock, and I’ve already tried revising my strategy. It’s just a little flick of the finger at this really tiny interval that I can’t seem to get quite right. And we’re on shore leave - I’m Jim.”  
“Affirmative, Jim. Perhaps some muscular training of the particular finger would prove beneficial.”  
“It’s not muscular deficiency, it’s just timing.” Kirk had his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth and he continued to play. Spock glanced over at him and then continued reading his messages. He opened one from Nurse Chapel apologizing for leaving her sweater in his quarters after coming to speak to him. She had awkwardly suggested going out to dinner during shore leave and Spock had informed her that he had previous plans to go out to a movie with Kirk and McCoy. She became flustered after that and left quite abruptly. Spock glanced over the message again and something caught his eye. In the final line of the message, she had repeated (for the third time) her apology and added an unfamiliar combination of characters: lol. Spock raised his eyebrow.  
“Captain?”  
Kirk didn’t look up from his game. “It’s Jim, Spock, how many times do I have to tell you?”  
“I apologize, Cap - Jim. I have a question regarding an unfamiliar term I received in a message.”  
“Oh, really?” Kirk wasn’t paying much attention to Spock; he’d just beat that particularly difficult boss in his game and was concentrating a lot. “What is it?”  
“I should not care to hazard a pronunciation, given that mine will most likely be incorrect. It is spelled L-O-L.”  
“Lol?”  
“It would appear so.”  
“Oh, that means, uh,” Kirk grinned. “Lot’s of logic.”  
“I see. Thank you, Jim.”  
“No problem, Spock.”  
Chekov and Sulu had gotten down to the lobby and were trying to open the door without jingling the little bell on it that would alert the whole darn hotel of their location. They slipped through silently and started looking around.  
“Do we have to pay for this stuff?” Chekov asked, holding up a snowglobe.  
“Nah, not if we get three or fewer things. After that the ship won’t put it on our tab.”  
“Oh okay.”  
They looked around for a bit - Chekov hunting near the office supplies and Sulu checking in the home essentials. After a moment or two, Chekov triumphantly held up a little label maker complete with 500 labels.  
“Found it.”  
“Sweet, let’s get out of here.”  
They snuck back to their rooms giggling.  
During this time, Joanna had been taking a nice, warm shower while her father was reading a romance novel on his bed. She stepped out in her pajamas with her hair wrapped up in a towel, turban style.  
“Took you long enough,” McCoy grumbled. He’d needed to relieve himself for at least ten minutes. He went into the bathroom and Joanna flicked through the television stations until she found some old documentary on sea turtles. She was impressed at the hotel’s attempts at historical accuracy. For a moment or two she considered messaging Chekov, but thought better of it. He was probably sleeping or showering or something. Plus, she didn’t actually need to tell him about the turtles.  
McCoy came out and sat back down on his bed. He set down his novel and watched the documentary with Joanna.  
“This is pretty accurate,” he said.  
“Yeah. I like this hotel, it’s cool.”  
“Mmm.”  
Several minutes passed as they watched some marine biologists release another healthy turtle into the ocean. Eventually, McCoy peered over at his daughter. He was a bit annoyed at her for hanging around with Chekov so much, but then again he understood why she did it. It had to be awkward to not only be the only one on the ship who wasn’t part of the crew, but also one of the only ten or something under-twenty-five crewmembers. Making friends was part of life. If only she could pick someone her father liked a little more.  
“Joanna?”  
“Yeah?”  
“You do realize that Chekov’s probably only hanging out with you to get into your pants, don’t you?”  
“Dad,” Joanna sighed exasperatedly. “We’re friends. Just friends. It’s not like that.”  
“Sure was 'like that’ during the movie.”  
“Well you were being annoying!”  
“Oh, I’m the one being annoying, am I? I’m the one who’s hanging around with shady characters and not caring a hoot about my father’s wisdom regarding these things?”  
“What 'wisdom regarding these things’? It’s friendship, dad, it’s not that complicated.”  
“Friends don’t cuddle each other during movies.”  
“Jim was cuddling you during the movie.”  
“That’s different!”  
“No, it’s not.”  
McCoy sighed.  
“No, it’s not. I’m just worried about you, Joanna. I don’t want you getting your little heart broken by some Russian Don Juan.”  
“Don Juan?” Joanna gave her father a look.  
“I know what he gets up to more'n you do.”  
“Okay, okay. But I’m not gonna stop hanging out with him. I like him.”  
“You what?”  
“I like him! He’s my friend, dad, geez.”  
Joanna took her hair out of the towel and scrubbed at it for a bit.  
“Alright, Joanna. I’m not gonna stop you from hanging around the kid. Just don’t be stupid.”  
“I won’t.”  
“Good.”  
They continued watching the documentary.  
The next day, most of the crew left the hotel to go get breakfast at a cutesy little cafe down the street. Because they all did that, the cafe got really crowded and the higher-ranking officers decided against going. Plus, Kirk and McCoy had taken the chance to sleep in and were not going to let a cafe stop them.   
After getting dressed and brushing their teeth and everything, Chekov and Sulu had looked over the label maker and programmed it to make the labels say 'made in Russia.’ Chekov couldn’t stop grinning over it.  
“This is going to be amazing, Hikaru.”  
“Just don’t stick any on my plants.”  
Chekov only smiled wickedly. He’d already placed three that Sulu had found, and several more that remained unidentified.  
Spock had not actually slept all night and thus was awake at 0500. The sun rose and he went out on the balcony to watch it. The planet actually orbited two suns and you wouldn’t normally be able to watch the sunrise like this, but the hotel had set up a very impressive forcefield-screen around their building to allow for optimum old-Earth accuracy. Spock found the way the light rays were cast very aesthetically pleasing. The shadows were also extremely precise. Filled with an appreciation of the logic of the sunrise, he whispered softly and with much feeling: “Lol.”  
Joanna had woken up before her father and sent Chekov a message asking if he was awake. He replied in the affirmative and asked if she wanted to go down to the hotel breakfast, as he and Sulu were already there, along with Uhura and some other crewmembers. Joanna said she’d be right there and scribbled a little message to her father on the hotel stationary telling him where she was before heading down. She got down to the lobby and looked around, spotting Chekov waving her over. She sat down next to him.  
“Hey.”  
“Hello. Would you like some breakfast?”  
“Well, yeah.”  
She got up and walked over to the counters where eggs, sausage, pastries, muffins, fruit, cereal, and an overly-loud waffle maker were situated. Something seemed off, however, and she looked over everything again. Chekov was rocking back and forth on his feet while whistling and looking up at the ceiling. She peered into the pastry case. There, right on the wrapper of a blueberry muffin, was a sticker that said 'made in Russia’ in thin black letters. She narrowed her eyes and stared hard at Chekov, who just shrugged.  
“I suppose these hotel people have good taste,” he said, grinning.  
“Oh, really?”  
Joanna looked at the waffle maker. There was a 'made in Russia’ sticker on that, too. In fact, there was a sticker on every single food item in the breakfast area.  
“Did you -?”  
“Weeeellll…”  
“He made me do it!” Sulu shouted from the table where he was sitting with Uhura.  
“You goof,” Joanna chided as she playfully punched Chekov in the shoulder. She got herself a bowl of cereal and a muffin and went to sit down with everyone else.  
When McCoy woke up, the sun was filtering through the curtains and the sounds of a little bird twittering came through the open window. He sighed contentedly and rolled over, scrubbing a hand over his face. He checked the little black alarm clock - 8:13. Stretching his arms, he smiled. Finally a good night’s sleep. You wouldn’t think it, but there are a lot of midnight calls on a starship. He slid out of bed and looked on the desk, seeing the message from Joanna telling him she was down getting breakfast. He gathered some of his clothes and went to have a nice, relaxing shower. This shore leave wasn’t half bad, he thought, if you took out Chekov.  
Spock had been staring at the sunrise for a long time. In fact, the sun had risen completely and he was still cataloguing its path in his notebook. Eventually, he couldn’t stare at it without hurting his eyes and he went back into the room. He was sliding the balcony door closed, trying to be quiet, when he accidentally shut it on his finger. His eyes widened and he breathed in sharply. He wrenched his hand away and stumbled into the bathroom. He ran cold water over his finger and repeated, “crying over a bruised finger is illogical” in his head several times.  
When Kirk heard the slight thump-crunch of the door shutting on Spock’s finger, he woke up from the half-sleep he’d been in ever since the sun rose. He rubbed his eyes and felt something sticky on his face. Kind of panicky, he jumped out of bed and fell down onto his face after tripping on the edge of the desk.  
“Spock!”  
“Captain?” Spock choked out.  
“Spock,” Kirk was surprised at the sound of Spock’s voice. “Are you alright?”  
“I am adequate, Captain.”  
“Still Jim, Spock.”  
Kirk looked down at his hands. The remnants of a spiderweb were spread between his fingers. He rubbed his shirt on his face and got the rest of it off.  
“Do you mind if I wash my hands?” he asked as he walked over to the bathroom.  
“Negative, Jim.”  
Spock moved away from the sink clutching his injured finger in his hand. His face was flushed vaguely greener than usual due to the pain. Kirk squinted his eyes at him.  
“You sure you’re alright, Spock?”  
“Yes, Jim. I merely managed to painfully compress my finger in the mechanisms of the door leading to the balcony. I apologize if I woke you.”  
Kirk had been washing his face and he now grabbed the towel that Spock was holding out for him and dried his face off.  
“Nah, it’s fine. I should be up now anyway.”  
They moved out of the bathroom and Kirk began tossing clothes out of his suitcase.  
“What time is it?”  
“Eight-fifteen.”  
“Thanks. You want to go get breakfast?”  
“I do not think there would be anything palatable for me.”  
“You don’t have to get anything, just sit and talk. It’s an experience, Spock. Hotel breakfasts are the best.”  
“If you think it appropriate I will go.”  
“Cool,” Kirk pulled on his shoes. “Let’s go.”  
They went down to breakfast. As they walked into the lobby, a chocolate lab belonging to one of the ensigns managed to free itself from the grasp of the girl holding it and dashed towards Spock. He stood very still and watched as it jumped up against him and barked. It’s breath was unpleasant in his face. He tentatively placed a hand on the dog’s head in the way he’d seen Kirk do before. The dog’s owner came running over, apologizing profusely.  
“I’m so sorry, I was just taking him out for a run and he got loose. Are you okay?”  
“I am adequate, Ensign.” The dog was snuffling at Spock’s hand.  
“Okay, well sorry again.”  
The girl grabbed the dog’s leash and led him away. Kirk turned to Spock with his eyebrows raised. Spock did not reply save a quirk of his right eyebrow. Kirk chuckled and they went over to grab a table.  
Spock inspected the food in the breakfast area. He noted the fact that all of the food appeared to come from Russia and found the way the hotel staff catalogued each type of food most logical. He peered at a bowl of fruit and said softly, “Lol.” Nothing seemed particularly appetizing to him, and he was about to return to the table when he caught sight of the pastry case. Sitting near the back, hidden behind an apple turnover and a cheese danish was a dark brown muffin that looked suspiciously like chocolate. Nearly quivering with excitement, Spock got a napkin and retrieved the muffin from the case and sat back down at his table. Kirk was getting a waffle.  
Spock reverently took off the wrapper (and the 'made in Russia’ label), and set them aside. He raised the muffin to his lips, took a bite, and - the muffin was not chocolate. It tasted suspiciously like a form of Terran grain known most commonly as 'bran’. He swallowed it uncomfortably and set the rest of it aside.  
Looking around the room, Spock noticed Joanna McCoy laughing at a joke Ensign Chekov had just told. Uhura was giggling as well. Sulu just rolled his eyes and said, “Lol.” Spock figured that the Lieutenant found something logical in the overwhelming illogic found in the vast majority of the jokes Chekov told. Kirk sat down with his waffle and a glass of orange juice.  
“Like your muffin?” he asked as he arranged his things on the table.  
“Negative.”  
“What, thought it was chocolate?”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, Spock,” Kirk smiled. “You are certainly not the first person to have made that mistake.”  
After McCoy had finished his lovely shower, he headed downstairs to grab some breakfast. Perhaps he’d be able to have something besides coffee and an apple for once. His mouth watered at the possibility of a blueberry muffin. When he walked into the seating area, he spotted his daughter joking around with Chekov. He narrowed his eyes at the two of them but ended up catching Sulu’s eye instead. Sulu raised his eyebrows and tried to smile but McCoy turned away too soon to see it. Sulu shrugged and turned back to the conversation at the table.  
McCoy grabbed a plate and picked out a muffin, a banana, some yoghurt, and a bowl of frosted flakes. Kirk and Spock were seated at a two-person table, but he dragged a chair over from another table and joined them. Spock had pushed his muffin away with a disappointed air and was now reading some reports on the history of using yeast in Terran baked goods.   
“Morning, Bones,” Kirk smiled as his friend set down his food.  
“Morning, Jim. How’d you sleep?”  
“Like a rock, until I woke up with a spiderweb on my face. It was disgusting.”  
“I’ll say. I actually had a nice night for once.” McCoy peered at Spock over the edge of his coffee cup. “And how about you, Spock? Sleep well?”  
“I did not sleep, doctor.”  
“Of course you didn’t. No need to sully yourself with these Earth sheets.”  
“That is not the reason I did not sleep. Vulcans can remain functional on as little as -”  
“Sure, sure they can. Have you eaten anything at least?”  
“He had part of a bran muffin,” Kirk said. “Thought it was chocolate.”  
“Did he now?” McCoy grinned.  
“The captain has informed me that most individuals will assume the flavor of a baked good to be one more appetizing than the flavor it actually possesses.”  
“So you messed up, Spock?”  
“It would appear so.” Spock turned back to his reports. Kirk and McCoy shared a look.  
“Joanna seems to be enjoying herself,” Kirk said mildly, smearing jam on a piece of toast he’d just gotten.  
“She’d better not enjoy herself too much. Hanging around with that monkey. She’ll come home with half the galaxy’s diseases from that boy.”  
“You could talk to Chekov, y'know, if it bothers you that much.”  
“He keeps avoiding me! That, or Joanna won’t leave him alone enough for me to speak privately with him.”  
“Just run into the elevator with him or follow him into the bathroom. It’s not that hard to corner someone, Bones. You do it to me all the time.”  
“Yeah, you’re right. Oh - there he goes now. Save my place for me, will you, Jim?”  
“No problem.”  
Chekov excused himself from the table and made his way down one of the hallways branching off of the lobby. He’d had about three cups of coffee on a dare and really needed the bathroom. McCoy, silent as the grave, speed-walked behind him and dashed into the bathroom after his target.  
Chekov was just about to go into a stall when McCoy spoke up, causing Chekov to jump about three feet into the air.  
“I bet you think you’re something else.”  
“Excuse me?” Chekov turned around and went white as he saw McCoy. He’d been expecting this confrontation for a long time, but definitely not in the hotel bathroom when he really needed to pee.  
“Hanging around with my daughter. I bet you think you can outsmart me, Chekov.” McCoy spit out his name like a bad word.  
“Uh,” Chekov floundered for words. “Not really.”  
“What?”  
“I’m not trying to outsmart you or anything. I just, um, like your daughter.”  
McCoy’s shoulders jumped up and his eyes narrowed.  
“Well you better not get any ideas, Ensign. If I find you’ve compromised her purity, I’ll -”  
“What? Purity? No, no, no, doctor McCoy, that is not -”  
“I know your type backwards and forwards and if you give her some space disease -”  
“I don’t have diseases!”  
“I’ve seen your file!”  
“Then your file is wrong!”  
Both of them stood staring at each other, waiting for the next move to be played. Eventually, McCoy straightened up and inspected his nails, speaking calmly but venomously.  
“I just want you to know that if you hurt my daughter you will not escape me, no matter how far away you may run. I will find you. I will hurt you.”  
“Yes, doctor. Are we done?”  
“Fine, yes, we’re done.”  
McCoy left the bathroom and Chekov shook his head.  
“Stupid doctor and his creepy stalking,” he muttered.  
Spock was still reading his report when McCoy got back to the table. His eyes were flicking back and forth over the text with an intense expression on his face.  
“Good read, Spock?” McCoy asked.  
“Yes, it is quite logical. In fact, I might even go so far as to say, lol.”  
McCoy’s eyes bugged out of his head and he choked on his muffin. Kirk’s head whipped up and he grinned at Spock devilishly. The conversation at the other table had died out and they were all staring at Spock. Everything was still and quiet until Kirk started chuckling. Soon he was all out laughing. Spock was staring around at everyone borderline frantically, entirely confused.  
“I do not understand. Have I said something amusing?”  
McCoy, who was just now getting his faculties back, clued in to what was happening. He smiled wide and slow at Spock.  
“It’s like this, Spock. The captain is just so fond of your appreciation of logic that he could not contain his mirth.”  
“Doctor, that does not explain the behavior of the rest of the crew, yourself included. I have shocked them and you unintentionally. Were you surprised that I would read something logical? If so -”  
“Mister Spock!” Chekov called out. “It is not that. It is just -”  
Uhura clapped a hand over his mouth and shushed him. She was smiling like the cat that got the cream. Spock stared at her for about a minute, and then carefully turned back to his report.  
“I presume this is simply another example of the innate illogic of the human psyche,” Spock said under his breath. Kirk’s laughing had quieted and McCoy was patting him on the back.  
“Sure, Spock, sure,” McCoy said. “Just some more human illogic.”  
After they’d finished eating, Chekov suggested going out somewhere.  
“There’s this cool garden nearby,” Sulu suggested.  
Uhura laughed. “Of course you’d want to see a garden,” she teased.  
“Gardens are cool!”  
“I’d like to see the garden,” Joanna said. “I wonder if they have any Earth plants.”  
“Probably do, given the tendency of this place to replicate Earth of the 21st century.” Uhura walked over to the reception desk and picked out a map of the surrounding area. “Your garden looks about a half-mile away. Not a bad walk.”  
“Nope, not bad at all,” Joanna turned to Chekov. “Wanna go?”  
“Why not?”  
“My dad may kill you.”  
“Eh, I’ve got him under my little finger. Just you see.”  
Chekov called out and waved to McCoy, who glared at him but didn’t do anything.  
“See?”  
Joanna laughed. “Alright, sure. Maybe. I still think he’ll sneak up on you while you’re sleeping.”  
“Ew, I don’t want him in my room!” Sulu grimaced.  
“You guys are ridiculous. My dad’s not creepy!”  
“Yes he is,” Sulu and Chekov said simultaneously. Uhura patted Joanna’s hand.  
“Don’t worry, they’re idiots. I don’t think your dad is creepy.”  
“Thank you, Nyota. Perhaps we should leave these two idiots here and just go ourselves.”  
“Perhaps we should.”  
Sulu’s eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. How could you - but I could tell you all about the plants there!”  
“You can’t leave me!” Chekov blurted out. “I’m the funny one! You’d be bored!”  
“We’re joking, guys, good grief.” Uhura and Joanna giggled.  
The four of them got up and headed out the door. McCoy sighed as they passed and took a swig of his coffee.  
“One day I’ll catch him with his hands up her skirt and she’ll be crushed and I’ll have to restrain myself from saying 'I told you so.’”  
“He’s not that bad, Bones. He’s just young.”  
“Yeah, well.” McCoy grumbled something about Russians and innocence that Kirk didn’t catch.  
“Hey, at least Sulu and Uhura are with them. It’s not like they’d ditch 'em as soon as they started getting cozy. Uhura’s smarter than that and Sulu wouldn’t think of leaving Chekov alone with anyone, let alone your daughter.”  
“Good point. I just wish I could keep her away from his masculine wiles, Jim.”  
“Masculine wiles?”  
“You know what I mean.”  
Spock raised an eyebrow and left to go follow the group. He wanted to record the behaviors of the younger crewmembers when not (knowingly) around senior officers.  
When they got to the garden, Sulu smiled really wide and pulled Joanna by the arm over to a bright blue flower with a purple cloud of pollen floating around it.  
“This here is the Psi-Cogitatem Intiorem 79-3. It’s native to this one tiny planet in the Romulan empire and only blooms twice every seventy-five years. I can’t believe they got one over here and I’m actually seeing it bloom - I mean, can you believe the odds that they’d have this -”  
Chekov raised an eyebrow at Uhura and she smiled. Sulu was apt to go on plant-rants whenever he came across an interesting garden.  
“Plus, it’s really cool for parties.”  
“Really? Why?” Joanna asked, bending down and peering at the flower.  
“Well if you touch it, it causes this temporary chemical imbalance in the brain that makes you unable to resist doing anything you think. It only lasts for a day, but during that time, if you get a song stuck in your head or something you won’t be able to stop belting it out. Or if you get annoyed at someone you’ll tell them what you think. Most people use it for kissing games, though, which is kind of a waste, given all the other interesting things you could use it for. Actually, I think the Romulans keep an extract of its pollen to use during criminal investigations.”  
“That is really cool,” Uhura said. “I’m trying it.”  
“Me too!” Joanna reached out and swiped her finger across one of the flower petals. “It’s not like it’ll kill me, right?”  
“Oh no, it’s harmless.” Sulu smiled, happy that someone actually cared about one of the plants he thought was cool.  
Uhura touched the flower and turned to Chekov. “Well?”  
“Well what?”  
“Aren’t you gonna touch it?”  
“Uh, I mean -”  
“Oh, come on, Chekov,” Joanna coaxed him on. “So you tell my dad he’s creepy. So what?”  
“Well I’ll kind of have to work with him for two more years, actually. It would be kind of bad, you know, to tell him that.”  
“I’m touching it,” Sulu said, doing so.  
They all looked at Chekov. He sighed.  
“Fine.”  
He touched it.  
Spock scribbled meticulously all that Sulu had said about the plant. After the four moved on to a different part of the garden, Spock approached the Psi-Cogitatem Intiorem 79-3.  
“Fascinating.”  
He bent down to look at it and was attempting to sniff it, when a gentle breeze came wafting through the garden and the flower touched his nose. He jerked back up and wrote frantically in his notebook. He swiftly left to follow the group.  
“Hikaru, I don’t think this is working.” Chekov was staring at the finger he’d touched the plant with. “I’ve had a song stuck in my head for the past five minutes and nothing has happened.”  
“Well it takes about half an hour to kick in. Just wait a bit.”  
Kirk and McCoy were taking a stroll around the town the hotel was situated in. They hadn’t spoken much, but they didn’t really need to. Kirk watched as a bee buzzed around McCoy’s head before heading off to a flowering tree. He looked over at McCoy. He was a little worried that Bones was worried about Joanna. She could take care of herself, of course, but that wouldn’t stop Bones from thinking she was still three years old, instead of seventeen. He thought about bringing it up but decided against it. He didn’t want to start an argument with his friend over something that would most likely blow over in a couple days.  
“Jim?”  
“Yeah?”  
“D'you think she’s angry with me?”  
Kirk considered this. “No, not exactly. I think she’s trying to get your attention.”  
“But why would she try to get my attention through flirting with Chekov? It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve paid attention to her this whole time and never forgotten about her. For heaven’s sake, Jim, I’ve barely been out of her sight!”  
“I know, but this is the first time in a long time she’s been able to hang out with you on a regular basis. I mean, when was the last time you saw her? When she was - what - eleven?”  
“Ten.”  
“My point exactly. She’s missed you and she wants your attention.”  
“But she has my attention! She doesn’t need to get Chekov’s too.”  
“Maybe she wants to.”  
McCoy grumbled.  
“Bones,” Kirk started. “If you want my honest opinion -”  
“I do.”  
“Okay, good, because I was going to say this anyway - if you want my honest opinion I don’t think Chekov and Joanna are or will become an item.”  
“You think so?”  
“Yeah. I do.”  
“Well, that sure is a load off my mind.”  
Kirk smiled. “You’re welcome.”  
“I didn’t say thank you.”  
In the garden, things were becoming very amusing. Sulu had started to speak to the plants and hum the Pirates of the Caribbean theme song. Plus, when he’d bent over to examine the leaves on a bush, Uhura had complemented his butt loudly. This had caused everyone to go into hysterics. After Chekov had sung the same commercial jingle for the fifth time, they all decided to head back to the hotel, where they would show off their condition to the rest of the crew.  
Spock had been following them, muttering “fascinating” under his breath and recording their behaviors. He found this whole ordeal absolutely perfect for his experiments on human behavior. He only hoped he wouldn’t do anything embarassing - not that Vulcans got embarassed - before the flower’s effects wore off. When the group turned back towards the hotel, Spock crept behind them and finished off his assessment. As he admired his own handiwork, he muttered “lol.”  
McCoy was glad when he saw his daughter return. She was laughing along with the rest of her friends and wasn’t standing too close to Chekov. In fact, she seemed to be palling around a little more with Uhura. McCoy was glad. But - he looked again - was that Spock? He’d noticed him leave the table before himself and Kirk, but he didn’t think he’d have followed the kids. He had his stupid little notebook and was looking through its pages, probably noting down all sorts of sinister information about the crew to use for blackmail later. McCoy would have to steal the book. Perhaps he’d do it tonight.  
As the group got closer, McCoy could hear what they were saying. Kirk was beside him, reading a book, and he looked up.  
“Is he -?”  
“About vodka? Yeah.”  
“It’s clear and strong, it won’t go wrong, with ginger beer and ice. Some juice of lime, it’s just the time, vodka is so nice!”  
Chekov finished with a flourish, bowed, and his friends cracked up around him. He looked around, spotted the doctor, and headed over, the rest of the group following.  
“Ah, doctor. How are you doing today, you creep?” He clapped a hand over his mouth but his eyes were smiling. Joanna couldn’t breathe for laughing so much.  
“Mr. Sulu, what is going on? Have you all been drinking? I hope you remember that it’s ten in the morning.”  
“No, Captain,” Sulu said, wiping tears from his eyes. “We found this plant that makes you lose all impulse control. I mean, it is shore leave.”  
Kirk looked at Bones with his eyebrows raised. Bones sighed.  
“I sincerely hope I won’t have to clean up any unfortunate messes, Mr. Sulu. If you vomit this stuff up I’m not responsible.”  
“Alright, doctor.” Sulu made to leave, but was stopped by Chekov shouting loudly, “Fencing is cool!”  
Uhura fell over and Joanna’s knees almost gave out. Sulu rolled his eyes and Chekov blushed. Spock noted all of these reactions meticulously. McCoy, who’d been meaning to speak to Spock about his habit of sneaking around after his daughter, called over to him.  
“Spock!”  
Spock looked up. “Doctor?”  
“Get your Vulcan hide over here, you green-blooded ingrate. I have a bone to pick with you.”  
“Oh, really, doctor?”  
Spock approached, but instead of stopping a polite distance away from McCoy, he walked all the way up to him and started stroking McCoy’s hair.  
“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”  
“Is it uncommon for one to stroke one’s pets?”  
“Pets?!” Kirk and McCoy sat up like they’d been jabbed in the pants with a darning needle. “What do you mean, pets?”  
“Are you high on something, Spock?”  
“Negative, doctor.”  
Kirk stared at Spock. Spock stared at Kirk. Kirk narrowed his eyes and tried to see if he could tell what was up. Spock put his hands on his cheeks and started cooing.  
“Sulu did you give Spock any of that plant drug of yours?” McCoy called out.  
Sulu turned.  
“I didn’t, but he might’ve tried it himself. If his breath smells like bananas then he’s had it.”  
McCoy leaned in close to Spock and sniffed his breath. It smelt of bananas.  
“God d— plants,” he muttered, annoyed. Spock had now started squeezing him and calling him cute. Hopefully he’d be able to bleach his brain and remove this incident from his memory.  
“I hope this wears off soon,” Kirk whined, voice muffled by Spock’s shoulder. He’d grabbed the both of them and was squeezing them together and still cooing.  
“It better. If it doesn’t - if it doesn’t I’ll kill him.”  
“Who, Sulu? Or Spock?”  
“Both.”  
Cold Vulcan fingers ran over McCoy’s hair again and he resigned himself to this hell on Earth - well, New Earth 7791.  
Sulu, Chekov, Joanna, and Uhura were sipping iced tea on the hotel roof. They were mostly trying to focus on nothing at all so that they couldn’t embarass themselves any further. At first, it had been fun when they blurted out something randomly, but soon it had delved into mortifying secrets. Uhura had waxed poetic about another crewmember who happened to be walking past. Joanna went complete southern hick and called Chekov 'fiiiiiiiine’. Chekov, after ranting about Russian inventions and how he’d fooled everybody already a million times, went on to talk about how impressed he was by Spock, Sulu, and Scotty. Scotty, who was relaxing in the hotel pool, looked at Chekov over his sunglasses and smiled. Chekov turned red and ran away.  
Sulu thought he’d be a little more immune to the symptoms, given that he’d tried the plant twice previously - once at a party and once accidentally during an experiment. He’d talked nonstop about pirates for five minutes while Uhura filmed him and then walked over to Chekov and ruffled his hair. They all decided it would be best if they tried to remain calm and collected for as long as possible.  
An hour passed. Nobody did anything embarassing. Kirk had commed security and stuffed Spock into their room until further notice. McCoy seemed shaken to the core by the whole incident. It wasn’t every day you got cuddled by a Vulcan.  
“Of course, this’ll just be one more thing for Christine to be jealous over. Can you believe her? Pining over that skinny green computer.”  
“Well,” said Kirk. “Just think. Next time you need to bribe her you can offer some of that flower stuff and she’ll be eating out of your hand.”  
“But we don’t know if it’ll make him coo over everyone. He ignored Joanna and her friends the whole time.”  
“Perhaps he just thinks we’re cuter.” Kirk grinned.  
“That just makes it worse,” groaned Bones, pretending to retch.  
“I’ll say. I won’t ever be able to keep a straight face while I’m on the bridge or while I’m playing chess or while we’re eating meals or while we beam down or -”  
“I get your point, Jim. You hang out with that man too much.”  
“Not really. We’re just pals.”  
McCoy raised an eyebrow. “WE’RE just pals. Spock is a stalker, I tell you, and he’s after my daughter.”  
Kirk pursed his lips and looked up. He opened his mouth to start speaking, considered, closed his mouth. He looked down at his hands. He opened his mouth again. “Bones, Spock is not a stalker. He’s a scientist! He was following your daughter because your daughter was going to a garden with interesting plants. If she hadn’t been in that group he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.”  
“And what about her little date night with Chekov? Was there any pressing scientific research to be attended to there?”  
“Well -”  
“No, Jim, there wasn’t. There was no reason for him to be there, scribbling away like an angel of God choosing which victims to send down to Hell. I want that notebook and I want it bad. If he’s written anything in there about Joanna I’ll chase him down and rip his pointy ears off his head.”  
“Geez, Bones. Chill.”  
“I’ll chill when I wanna chill! This is my vacation - the first one in a year, I’ll bet, when I don’t have any pressing business keeping me up on the ship. I want to enjoy myself but I can’t when half the galaxy is chasing after my daughter!”  
“They aren’t chasing after your daughter! Chekov is just a friend, he told you himself! And Joanna said so too!”  
“You believe them?!”  
“Yes.”  
McCoy shook his head in disbelief. “I wouldn’t have thought it of you, Jim. It just isn’t like you.”  
“Well accusing Spock of being a stalker isn’t much like YOU.”  
“Yeah, well. Desperate times.”  
“You know what Bones,” Kirk said, rising. “I’ll tell you what. What you need is a drink.”  
“It’s one in the afternoon. Or have you forgotten?”  
“Hey, it’s five o'clock somewhere.” Kirk winked and walked over towards the mini bar. McCoy grumbled and followed him, secretly pleased at the chance of a distraction.  
“Two Shirley Temples, please.”  
McCoy stared. “Those sweet, fruity, little kid drinks?”  
“It IS one in the afternoon, Bones. And you like fruity drinks.”  
“I do.”  
“So here,” he handed a Shirley Temple to McCoy. “Let’s take these outside. I think Scotty’s in the pool.”  
“I hope to God he hasn’t had any of that flower stuff.”  
“Nah, he wouldn’t.”  
The two walked out onto the hotel’s back-porch/pool area. Scotty was still there, resting his elbows on the side of the pool and sipping a root beer he’d poured into a glass to be classy. When he saw Kirk and McCoy walk over, he raised a hand in greeting.  
“And how’s the captain and CMO today?”  
“Eh, could be worse,” Kirk said as he sat down on a reclining deck chair. “Most of the younger crewmembers have tried this party trick drug that makes you lose all impulse control, so that’s a headache.”  
Scotty whistled. “I’ll say. Who all’s tried it?”  
“Joanna McCoy, Chekov, Sulu, Uhura, and Spock.”  
“Spock?!”  
“Spock.”  
“Well,” Scotty took a long swig of his root beer. “Better you than me, Captain. Better you than me.”  
McCoy had settled down in the deck chair next to Jim’s and was fiddling with the shade umbrella that was between them. He twisted the knob on it and got it to block the sun from his eyes. Leaning back again, he sipped at his fruity drink with a smile. This was nice, he thought, if you forgot about Spock and Chekov.  
Meanwhile, up on the roof, the hour of calm had given way to an hour of disaster. It had all started when a fly had landed on Joanna’s hand and she swatted at it, but everyone else swatted at the same time and ended up knocking Joanna backwards, spilling her drink all over herself. Everyone then simultaneously leapt together to clean up the mess and pick up Joanna, knocking their heads together. They fell backwards, clutching their craniums, moaning in agony and cursing the Psi-Cogitatem Intiorem 79-3. Joanna, who at first had found the behavior of her friends amusing, had started to think otherwise when a welt formed on her hand from all the smacking.  
Sulu stretched out on his back with his hands beneath his head.  
“How about we never try this again?”  
Everyone groaned.  
“Yes, I agree with that. This flower does not mesh well with me,” Chekov muttered, clutching his stomach. He’d gotten a stomach ache at about the same time the flower drug kicked in and it had only gotten worse with time. Chekov pulled his knees up to his chest and rocked back and forth.  
Spock had been in the room for about two hours and was starting to get vaguely bored. He had already completed all of his work, all of Jim’s work, and recorded as much as possible of the behaviors of certain crewmembers. He was now lying face up on his bed, hands folded neatly across his abdomen, staring up at the ceiling. He sat up and saw his face in the mirror directly across from the bed. He stared at himself for a moment or two, and then rolled off the bed. In the bathroom, Jim kept a small tub of hair grease for getting that perfect little swirl. Spock picked it up now, unscrewed the lid, and dipped one of his fingers in the grease. Getting a glob of it, he worked it into his hair and slicking it back 50’s style. His hair wasn’t nearly long enough for it to look good, but it was better than nothing.  
He blinked at himself. “Loi,” he said. Lots of illogic.  
Chekov thought he had a migraine coming on. He dragged himself to the edge of the roof and looked around. When he spotted McCoy, he called out to him.  
“Doctor McCoy!”  
McCoy’s head whipped around, searching for that daughter-stealer.  
“Up here! On the roof! Doctor McCoy!”  
Chekov waved his hands and McCoy saw him. He got up off his deck chair and walked over so he was almost directly under Chekov.  
“What do you want, Chekov?”  
“Um, I feel sick,” Chekov said, clutching his stomach.  
“You feel sick.”  
“Yes.”  
“Mmmhmm…you tried some strange plant drug, went crazy, and now you feel sick.”  
“Yes, doctor, that is what I have said.”  
“And what am I supposed to do about that?”  
Chekov blinked. “You are the doctor. When someone is sick, they come to you and get - not-sick.”  
“I assume you mean 'better’?”  
“Yes,” said Chekov exasperatedly. “Now do you have anything for a stomach ache or headache? I think I have a migraine.”  
“Hang on a minute,” McCoy went back into the hotel and waited for the elevator. Stupid Chekov. He grabbed some pills from his room and went back down to the lobby.  
“Excuse me,” he said to the lady at the desk. “But do you know how to get up on the roof? One of my patients is up there, fooling around, says he’s got a migraine -”  
The lady pointed to a staircase off to the left.  
“Thank you, ma'am.”  
Bones headed up the stairs, cursing Chekov, Chekov’s family, and the entire nation of Russia. When he opened the door to the roof, he was thoroughly unimpressed. His daughter appeared to have a welt on her hand and was lying spread-eagle on the roof next to Uhura and Sulu, both situated similarly. Chekov was still draped dramatically beside the roof’s edge, moaning every now and again. McCoy walked over to Chekov and held out the pills.  
“Here. Take these.”  
Chekov weakly grasped the pills and crawled over to where his iced tea was sitting. He popped the pills in his mouth, swallowed them, and flopped down with his head on the roof and his butt up in the air. His head would not stop pounding and he wished he could jump off the roof.  
“Euuuggghhhh,” he groaned.  
McCoy looked at them all. He was a doctor, d—it, not a…doctor. Well. They were sick, he was the doctor, it all should have worked out. If only it had been Uhura or Sulu who was sick, not Chekov. Chekov’s position was terribly undignified and he looked like an immature seven-year-old. He really wasn’t that old, Bones thought, just five years older than Joanna. McCoy walked over to Joanna and squatted down next to her.  
“Hey,” he said, inspecting the welt on her hand. “You okay?”  
Joanna squinted her eyes open at her dad.  
“Yeah, I’m good. My hand hurts a bit, but it’s fine.”  
“Alright. Do you want something for it? A bit of ice, some painkillers, anything?”  
“Nah, that’s okay. Thanks, dad.”  
McCoy smiled. “No problem. Just don’t ever take this flower stuff again, y'hear?”  
“Sure,” Joanna said, smiling weakly. She wasn’t too thrilled with the flower’s effects herself. “See ya.”  
Bones walked back down the stairs and rejoined Jim by the pool. He sipped at his Shirley Temple and thought about life. Kirk was snoring softly.  
Back in the room, Spock had finished fiddling with his hair. He had swept it all to one side and spiked it at the edges. But there was still nothing to do. Spock looked over at the desk and spotted Kirk’s game, still where he’d left it last night. Momentarily annoyed at the captain’s apparent inability to replace his things, Spock regained some self-composure. The moment did not last, however, and he walked over and picked up the game. Just a flick of the thumb, Jim had said, and you could win the whole level. Spock’s fingers were probably more adept than Jim’s at anything, really, so he had reasonable confidence in his abilities.  
The game beeped. He’d lost, and not even gotten past the first obstacle. This game was harder than it looked. Spock set the game in his lap, cracked his knuckles, and picked it up again.  
Kirk woke up with a start.  
“Someone’s playing my game,” he croaked, reaching for the rest of his Shirley Temple. McCoy slid his sunglasses down his nose and looked at Jim with a raised eyebrow.  
“Oh, really? Lemme guess: it’s Spock.”  
“Spock? But why would he -”  
“I’m sure that even Vulcans get bored, Jim. For Pete’s sake, he’s been cooped up in there for nearly three hours now; he’s bound to get a little cagey after all that.”  
“Yeah, but…”  
“But what?”  
“What if he beats my high score?” Jim whined. McCoy rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.  
“I don’t care,” he said, ostentatiously picking up the romance novel he’d brought down from his room. “You can always beat it later.”  
“Yeah…”  
Jim looked uneasily at the concrete of the porch. He really didn’t like to think about Spock beating the high score that it had taken him two hours to get. He fidgeted in his chair for about thirty seconds, and then stood up.  
“I’m going up there,” he said.  
“You know he’ll cuddle you, Jim.”  
“I know, I just can’t stand to think of my high score being beaten. It took me two whole hours to get it and -”  
“Alright, alright, just go already. Geez.”  
“'Kay. See you in a sec.”  
“Go on, get.” McCoy shooed Jim away. What an idiot.  
Kirk speed-walked to the elevator and bounced on his heels as he waited for it. The little music in it as rose so very slowly was getting on his nerves. Spock could be beating his high score this very minute! When the doors dinged open, Kirk couldn’t stop himself from running to his door, unlocking it, and opening it as fast as he could. He saw Spock sitting in the desk chair, the game in his hands. When he heard Kirk open the door, he looked up like a deer in the headlights.  
Kirk stared at him, eyes narrowed, mouth pursed. Spock’s eyes were wide and he started blushing a faint green. He slowly started to stand up. Kirk watched his every move. He stepped closer. Spock stepped back. Kirk moved forward - and Spock was gone. He’d dashed out onto the balcony, and started heading down the fire escape. Kirk was after him like a shot, shouting after Spock to give him his game back.  
“Spock! Gimme my game back!”  
“No!”  
Spock made it off the fire escape and headed out onto the flat green backyard of the hotel. Scotty, who was still in the pool, stared after him. McCoy was reading, and didn’t see. Kirk started yelling as he hit the ground, sprinting after Spock as fast as his legs would carry him. Spock reached the road, looked left and right, considered, dashed left towards the garden he’d visited before.  
Kirk was after him the whole way. Spock’s elbows and knees were wobbling everywhere and his heart was beating much faster than it normally did. Kirk looked like a sped-up version of someone from Baywatch - all poised grace and easy movements.  
When they reached the garden, Spock headed towards the hedge maze. He took three left turns and a right, left again, left, right, and hit a dead end. He thought he’d lost Kirk, but he couldn’t be sure. He tried to keep his breathing quiet. He heard Kirk’s stomping footsteps and went white.  
“Spock!”  
Spock held his breath.  
“Spoooock!” Kirk called out, sing-song. “Gimme my game back!”  
Suddenly, Kirk was right in front of the opening. Spock was cornered. He screamed.  
Kirk tackled Spock to the ground, trying to keep from crushing his game.  
“Give - it - back!”  
“Never!” Spock squirmed around in Jim’s grasp, trying in vain to free himself. “No!”  
They wrestled in the fairway-length grass for a while - Jim on top, now Spock, now Jim again. Eventually, Kirk was able to pin Spock’s arms down and sit on him. He wrenched the game out of Spock’s fingers and glared at him.  
“I bet you were trying to beat my high score, huh?”  
“Negative, Jim.”  
“Oh, yeah? Then why were you running away with my game? Probably broke it.”  
“It is not broken.”  
Jim inspected the game. It wasn’t broken.  
“Well, it might have been, for all I knew. You don’t just run away with people’s things, Spock, they’ll think you’ve done something.”  
“I did do something, just not what you expected.”  
Kirk narrowed his eyes. Spock had that stupid little smirk of his on his face. How he could smirk while being sat on was anybody’s guess, but he did it.  
“What did you do,” Kirk said, more an accusation than a question.  
“You shall have to find out.” Spock gave a weak shove at Jim and then went limp. Kirk was now studying every minute detail of his game, trying to see where it had been altered. He opened up the case, inspected the controls, searched for any scratch on the screen. Spock watched dully the movements of Kirk’s eyes and chewed the inside of his cheek.  
“I did not alter anything on the case of the game.”  
Kirk squinted at him. “But I can’t trust you, Spock, so why should I stop looking?”  
“Because it would be illogical.”  
“Illogical my foot,” Kirk huffed, turning the game on. He checked the high scores - his was still the highest. Then he tried starting the game and…  
“Oh-ho-ho I see what you’ve done.”  
“Indeed?”  
“Yes, you changed this game to lefty mode. Now how do I get it back…?”  
Kirk fiddled around with the settings for a while, but couldn’t find out how to switch the game back to right-handed mode. He sighed in frustration and rolled off of Spock.  
“Here,” he handed the game over. “Fix it.”  
Spock patted Kirk on the head and took the game. In about fifteen seconds he handed it back over, good as new.  
“There, there,” he cooed.  
“God in Heaven,” Kirk groaned. “Please let this wear off soon.”  
Uhura laughed weakly. “Nice butt, Pavel.”  
Chekov raised his face up from the roof and glared at Uhura. Sulu lifted his arms off of his face and looked around.  
“What time is it?” he asked.  
Joanna, bouncing a leg atop her knee, checked her watch.  
“'Bout three.”  
“Three?” Sulu sat up. “Geez, we’ve been up here a while.”  
Chekov flopped onto his side. “Do you think Doctor McCoy is still down there? I don’t want him to know his pills did not work on me.”  
“You mean you’ve been sitting there with a migraine this entire time and didn’t tell anyone?” Joanna stared hard at Chekov, annoyed.  
He smiled sheepishly. “Yes?”  
“Good grief,” Joanna put her head in her hands. “What am I going to do with y'all…”  
Sulu and Uhura looked at each other, smiling devilishly.  
“Y'all?” Uhura prodded.  
“Shut up.”  
“Hikaru,” Chekov groaned. “How long until this wears off?”  
“Oh, it should be gone already. Why?”  
“Because my headache is still here. And - wait a minute - you said this lasts a day! It’s not been twelve hours, yet!”  
“Yeah, well, I fudged the details a bit. It only really lasts three hours. It wore off a while ago, I just didn’t want to tell you because you were acting so silly.” Sulu shrugged, smiling. It wasn’t every day you could get your friends to try a stupid flower drug and he wanted to live up every moment of it. Uhura wasn’t happy, however, and she got up and stood over Sulu, scowling.  
“You mean I could have been off doing whatever the h— I wanted instead of hiding up here on this roof with you idiots - not you, Joanna, them.”  
“Gotcha,” said Joanna, giving a thumbs up.  
“You jerk,” Uhura spit out. She stalked off the roof, fuming. Joanna went after her.  
“I’m gonna tell my dad it’s over, 'kay?” she called out from the door to the stairway.  
“Sure,” said Sulu. He turned to Chekov. “You alright?”  
“Meh. I’ll be fine.” Chekov stood up. “I’m kind of hungry, though. We missed lunch.”  
“Yeah, but it’s like three. Wouldn’t it be easier to just wait for dinner?”  
Chekov looked scandalized. “Wait for dinner?! Are you serious? No-no-no, I cannot wait for dinner. This is important - come on!”  
He pulled Sulu up by the arm and they went downstairs to the lobby. There were several bowls of fruit on a table and Chekov grabbed an orange, tossing it several times in his hand before starting to peel it. Sulu waited by patiently, observing the lady at the desk and the details in the paint on the ceiling. Chekov finished peeling his orange and started to eat it. He offered a wedge to Sulu, who accepted and popped the fruit in his mouth.  
“You done, then?” asked Sulu.  
“Nope.”  
Chekov walked over to the lady at the desk and asked if she had any leftover pastries from the morning. She said she did and offered to get them for him. Thanking her, Chekov turned back to Sulu with a smile.  
“Your plant really took it out of me, Hikaru. You should apologize.”  
“Apologize? For what? You took it out of your own free will. And besides, how was I to know you’d be allergic?”  
“Well you could have at least warned me!”  
“Of what?”  
“Oh, I don’t know, that some people are allergic!”  
“Okay, then. Some people are allergic to oranges - did I warn you about those? Or muffins? Iced tea? That’s ridiculous, Pavel, you know that.”  
“Yeah, well.” Chekov grinned. “I like teasing you.”  
“You’re crazy,” joshed Sulu. He rolled his eyes and sat down on one of the lobby chairs. There was a home gardening magazine sitting on the coffee table next to him and he picked it up. Chekov snorted when he saw it. Sulu narrowed his eyes and mouthed, 'shut up’ at him.  
The lady from the desk came back with the patries and told Chekov he could toss the ones he didn’t eat because they’d be stale before the next day. Chekov selected an apple-walnut muffin and sat down on the chair next to Sulu’s, placing the pastry tray on the table between them.  
“Want any?” he asked, gesturing to the tray.  
“Mmm - maybe.”  
After asking Uhura if she was actually ticked or just annoyed, Joanna headed out to the pool to see her dad. McCoy had his book in his lap with his hands folded over them and a hat pulled down over his eyes. Scotty had gotten out of the pool and was sunning himself on a towel over the lawn. Joanna tapped her father on the arm. He yawned and took the hat off his eyes.  
“Yeah?”  
“Oh, it’s just me dad,” Joanna said. “Sulu told me the flower wore off.”  
“Did it, now?” McCoy rubbed his eyes with his fingers. He was terribly relieved. Now he’d be able to steal the little notebook of Spock’s without the man himself tackling and cuddling McCoy.  
“Yup, he said it only lasts three hours.”  
“Isn’t that nice.”  
“Yeah. Mind if I join you?” Joanna asked, sitting down in the deck chair beside her father’s.  
“Oh no, not at all. It’s a beautiful day.”  
“Mmm.”  
Joanna stretched her arms up behind her head and relaxed. It was nice.  
Kirk was going to throttle Spock. He hadn’t stopped cuddling him since he’d fixed the game, and while Kirk was able to move his arms enough to beat his previous high score, he desperately needed to stretch his legs and was worried he might fart if left too long. He awkwardly patted Spock’s head. Spock looked at him, eyes wide and dark and vaguely threatening.  
“Hey,” Kirk choked out, chest crushed by strong Vulcan arms. “Would you mind letting go? Or - y'know - maybe letting me breathe a bit?”  
Spock didn’t say anything, just slightly released his grip.  
“Thanks, Spock.”  
Kirk wriggled a bit and managed to free one of his arms. Since they were on shore leave, and this was a terribly peaceful planet, all non-security personnel had left their phasers in their rooms. Still, he might be able to grab a rock. Kirk thought for a moment. Vulcans were descended from cats, right? Perhaps, perhaps…  
He started petting Spock’s hair, as one might do to a particularly cozy kitty. Spock melted under his touch and fell onto his back, splaying his arms and legs out as if to make a grass angel. Kirk gave a little fist pump. Score. He continued petting Spock until he was sure he wouldn’t chase Kirk down, and then snuck away, running as soon as he hit the road to the hotel.  
“Bones! Sulu!” he shouted, bursting in through the doors. “I got Spock to fall asleep but I need help!”  
Sulu swallowed the bit of cheese danish he had in his mouth.  
“Okay, Captain, but why? Is Mr. Spock still acting strange?”  
Kirk chuckled bitterly. “Strange? Mr. Sulu, have you ever been cuddled by a Vulcan?”  
Sulu blanched and Chekov choked on his muffin. “He was cuddling you?” Sulu asked incredulously.  
“He was. Now, I need some help. Where’s Bones?”  
“I think Dr. McCoy is out on the porch.”  
“Great.”  
Kirk ran out the door to get Bones. He shook his shoulder until Bones started grumbling that he was awake, d—it, stop shaking him.  
“Bones - Bones - we’ve gotta get Spock and lock him up again! I got him to fall asleep and if we don’t put him away -”  
“I get you, Jim, I get you. Now where is this devil-eared thorn in my side?”  
Kirk and McCoy collected two security officers and hurried over to where Kirk had left Spock sleeping. He was still dozing peacefully and they were able to carry him back to the hotel with minimal difficulty. Kirk closed the door on him and locked it, checking the balcony door as well. There wouldn’t be any escaping from Spock this time.  
Sulu was a little worried when Kirk told him about Spock. The flower should have worn off by now. Then again, Spock was not human and thus would have different reaction times. Still, thought Sulu, it would be best to check on him. Unfortunately he was not able to, as no one was allowed in or out of the bedroom where Spock was chucked for misbehaving. Sulu rejoined Chekov and the pastry tray sullenly.  
“I’m gonna be in so much trouble. I can just feel it.”  
“Why, what’d you do?” Chekov asked, mouth full.  
“This whole thing! If I hadn’t told you guys about this plant, none of this would have happened.”  
“Yeah, well, nothing you can do about it now. It’s not like we’re going to die.”  
“Spock might.”  
“So?”  
Sulu’s eyes bugged and he gaped at Chekov, who was holding back a grin.  
“I’m joking!” he laughed.  
“Good! Geez. You can’t just say that sort of thing.”  
“Says who?”  
“I don’t know - authorities?”  
“Authorities?”  
“Yes. Authorities.”  
Chekov raised his eyebrows and bit his pastry defiantly.  
The rest of the afternoon passed by uneventfully. Uhura met up with some of her other friends and went to see a showing of the movie Chekov and Joanna had gone to. Sulu and Chekov stopped eating pastries eventually and played a very intense game of Go Fish. Joanna took a dip in the pool with her dad and had a nice time in the sun. Kirk got a sunburn while tanning himself. Scotty left to the bar as soon as it opened. When the clock struck six, everybody was pretty hungry.  
“Any restaurants you’d recommend?” Kirk asked the lady at the desk. She pulled out several sheets of paper with places organized by price and cuisine. Kirk thanked her and handed the sheets to Bones.  
“We’re getting Italian,” he said as they both walked out the door. The rest of the crew weren’t required to join them for dinner, but they decided to anyway just because. Joanna was walking with Chekov and chatting about music. Sulu had his hands in his pockets and looked terribly pleased about the local flora.  
“Do we have to get Italian?” Uhura complained. “We always get Italian.”  
“We like Italian!”  
“YOU like Italian.”  
“Yes, I do. And so does Spock.”  
“Spock isn’t even going.”  
“So?”  
“So he doesn’t get a vote!”  
“Yes he does,” huffed Kirk. “We’ll honor his memory with Italian.”  
“You’re ridiculous.” Uhura flounced away.  
They got to the restuarant and had Italian. McCoy and Uhura complained, but enjoyed their meals anyway. Sulu was worried the whole time about what would happen to Spock, so Chekov ended up kicking him under the table and telling him to stop fidgeting.  
While they were heading back, McCoy noticed the light in Spock (and Kirk)’s window was dark. It was around 8 o'clock, and there was just the slightest possibility that Spock might still be sleeping. He rubbed his hands together like an old-fashioned villain. Kirk and the others had gone on to play Cluedo in the lobby and so far as he could see, the coast was clear.  
He walked over to the fire-escape, jumped, and pulled it down. He crept up 'til he got to the correct balcony. He tried the door - locked. Good thing he’d pilfered one of Joanna’s hair pins. Jimmying the lock, he heard it click. He pushed it open silently and slid inside.  
The room was dark and silent, save for the muffled sounds coming from downstairs. Bones looked around, trying to tell which side of the room was Spock’s and which was Jim’s. When he saw Spock himself lying on his bed, he nearly had a heart attack and was able to determine the correct suitcase. Lying on the floor, it was black and very unassuming. If only Bones had remembered to bring a flashlight. Finding a black notebook inside of a black suitcase where most of the clothes were black in a black room was not an easy task. McCoy squatted on the floor beside the suitcase. He carefully set aside the stack of clothes and peered into the depths of the darkness below himself. He could just make out the lines of a pen, a razor, and - a notebook! He snatched it up, stuffed it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket, and started returning the clothes to their proper places.  
He was nearly out of the room when something happened that caused his heart to skip a beat. The desk chair was pulled out slightly farther than he’d expected and he kicked it with his foot. The thump sounded impossibly loud to his ears. He could detect small snuffles from the sleeping figure of Spock. McCoy paused, holding his breath. Perhaps if he waited it out, Spock would fall back asleep. It was just his luck, however, when Spock sat up and slipped out of bed. His godforsaken Vulcan eyes could see better than McCoy’s in the dark, and there was no doubt that he was spotted. He tried staying perfectly still, but of course that didn’t work.  
“Doctor?”  
Spock’s voice reverberated menacingly around the room. McCoy swallowed thickly.  
“Yes, Spock?”  
“What are you doing in my quarters at this hour?”  
“Uh, I’ve - I’ve come to get something of Jim’s. He left it in here and said he wanted it.”  
“And what would that be?”  
McCoy racked his brains. Surely he could remember what Jim liked to do in his time off.  
“A book!” he said triumphantly. “I’ve come to get his book.”  
McCoy could not see Spock’s face in the low light, but he could tell by the tone of the silence that followed his statement that Spock was not impressed. McCoy floundered.  
“Well, I’ll just be off, then,” he said cheerily as he headed back towards the balcony door.  
“Would it not be wiser to leave through the main door, Doctor?”  
McCoy paused. Actually, that was a good idea.  
“Yes, yes of course, Spock. Just slipped my mind is all.”  
As he was moving towards the door, though, he was tackled to the ground by Spock, who was nuzzling against his shoulder and calling him a 'pretty human’. McCoy closed his eyes and prayed to God that this would end soon.  
Uhura had just beaten everyone for the third time. Kirk hadn’t even lasted one round. Scotty, who wasn’t playing, had bet Sulu, who also wasn’t playing, that Chekov would give up before the next round was over. Uhura just smiled wickedly and suggested another game.  
“We could play Monopoly,” proposed Kirk, who was thoroughly tired of being beaten at the game he’d said he was a champion at.  
“Okay.”  
Kirk collected the game from the game stand and brought it over as Uhura and Chekov cleared up the pieces left over from Cleudo.  
“Who wants to be the banker?”  
“Oh - can I?” asked Chekov. “I love being the banker!”  
“D— Vulcan physiology.” McCoy muttered. He was pinned up against a cold, clammy, and uncomfortably strong body and on top of all that was lying on the scratchy hotel carpet. This was not the ideal way to end a nice day.  
“I don’t suppose you’d consider moving this to the bed, Spock?”  
“Mm-eh-ffh,” Spock mumbled into McCoy’s shoulder.  
“I’m sorry?”  
Spock lifted his face up. “Negative, Doctor.”  
McCoy sighed.  
“I hope you realize that I have things to do?”  
“That is irrelevant.”  
“It is not - you know what, Spock, how’s about this: I’ll stay here and cuddle you if you let me give Jim his book. Alright? I’ll leave and come right back.”  
Spock considered this proposal. There was no way to know if McCoy would return after leaving, but then again, if the captain did not receive his book he might come looking for McCoy and take him away.  
“You may go.”  
Spock released his hold and McCoy’s lungs expanded. He left the room and headed to his own, where he deposited the book. Checking his watch, he determined he had about three minutes before Spock would start to get suspicious. He commed Jim.  
“Yes?”  
“Jim, I need to tell you something. Spock has got me trapped up in the room. He’s delusional - thinks I’m his pet still, Devil knows why - point is, I’m going to knock him out with a hypo and send him to sleep for about sixteen hours. That should be enough time for the flower drug to wear off, don'tcha think?”  
“Yeah, yeah sure - look, Bones, I’m kind of busy right now, I’ll talk to you in a bit. Good luck with that.”  
“Thanks.”  
McCoy clicked his communicator shut and jogged lightly back to Spock’s room. If there was such a thing as Hell on Earth, surely it was this. He opened the door. Spock was right there, and would be startling if not for the very soft expression on his face. He pulled McCoy into the room and shut the door.  
“Mmmmmmmm,” Spock hummed, hugging McCoy and twisting back and forth. McCoy fumbled with the hypo; his arms were pinned against his sides. It stayed that way for a minute or two, and then he got his chance: Spock grabbed McCoy’s face, squished his face, and made little kissy noises. McCoy jabbed the hypo into Spock’s shoulder and felt him go limp. Much as he wanted to leave Spock lying on the floor, McCoy realized he should probably set him on his bed.  
“Are you serious?!”  
Chekov watched as Uhura snatched up all but two of his Monopoly dollars.  
“Taxes, Pavel,” she grinned. “Everyone’s gotta pay 'em.”  
Chekov groaned. “This game is not as fun as I thought.”  
“Oh, it’s fun,” Kirk said darkly. “Just not when you’re playing with a board-game shark.”  
Uhura laughed.  
Kirk had had to fork over two of his properties in exchange for staying in the game, but that meant Uhura gained a monopoly on three colors. Sulu was enjoying the game thoroughly; he’d bet on Uhura and all looked well.  
“Anyone want a drink?” asked Scotty. He was headed to the bar and wanted to be polite.  
“I’ll have a Sprite,” Sulu said. Chekov scoffed.  
“A Sprite?! Pfff - I’ll have their best vodka, please.”  
“You sure you want to do that?” cautioned Uhura. Everyone knew that Chekov completely failed at any game he played while he was drinking, except strip poker.  
“Yes.”  
“Alright,” said Scotty. “Anyone else?”  
“I’ll have a beer,” said Kirk.  
“A'ight. I’ll be back in a tic.”  
Joanna had left the game about fifteen minutes ago to start getting ready for bed. She had to leave early tomorrow morning to catch her ride back to the base where she was studying. Her friends had promised to wake up and see her off, but she was pretty disappointed at not getting to be there for the last day of shore leave.  
Joanna double-checked that all her stuff was ready for the morning. It was. She looked around, at a loss of what to do before sleeping, and spotted her dad’s romance novel sitting on the chair. She ripped a piece of stationary from the pad, placed it in as a bookmark, and started reading. It actually wasn’t that bad - oh. The book was about a divorcee who’d gotten estranged from her son, and was trying to make amends. Joanna smiled sadly. Her father might be a sap, but at least he had a sap daughter.  
She decided to talk to him when he got back to the room, and kept reading.  
After depositing Spock on his bed, McCoy headed downstairs to see who was winning the board game. Surprisingly, the game had taken a wild turn when Chekov bought out all the utilities, railroads, and purple properties. He’d drained Uhura of nearly all her money and taken a property as well.  
“Who said I can’t play and drink at the same time?” he asked, winking cheekily.  
“I did,” Uhura confessed tiredly.  
“And were you right?”  
“No.”  
“Exactly. Now pay your taxes.”  
“How long has he been beating her?” McCoy asked Jim under his breath.  
“Oh, only about a minute or two. We were all sure he’d lose. 'Cept, Scotty, that is. He bet Sulu fifty credits that Chekov would beat her in the end.”  
“I gathered as much, from the way he looks like his puppy got run over.” Bones looked around. “Did Joanna go up already?”  
“Yeah, she went up about twenty minutes ago.”  
“Okay, well, I’m gonna go up and see if she’s good to go. G'night, everyone.”  
“Night.”  
McCoy went upstairs. He knocked before he entered the room.  
“Joanna? It’s me. You good?”  
“Yeah, hang on,” Joanna said, sliding off the bed and opening the door for her dad. “Hey.”  
“Hey. Everything good to go for tomorrow?”  
“Mm-hmm. My stuff’s all packed except for my pajamas 'n’ toothbrush, but I’ll get those in the morning.”  
“Good, good,” McCoy said, looking around. “Is that my book?”  
“Oh, uh, yeah,” admitted Joanna, embarassed. “Sorry - I put a bookmark in for you, though, so.”  
“I don’t mind; you can read it if you want.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yep. I’ve read it before.”  
“Oh.”  
Joanna got back in bed, reading her book.  
Bones felt a little tugging sensation in his chest, and smiled. This was alright. This was nice. He tried to forget that she’d be gone in the morning and got ready for bed.  
Chekov was a little tipsy at 9:30.  
Chekov was a little drunk at 10:00.  
Chekov was a little unsteady on his feet at 10:30.  
Sulu was a little annoyed at having to half-carry, half-drag Chekov back to their room at 11:00, after a wild drinking game Chekov played against Scotty (and won). He propped Chekov up against the wall as he got the room key out. He was tired and dropped it on the floor. Sighing, he bent to pick it up. Chekov giggled. Sulu straightened, put the key-card in the door, and opened it. Depositing Chekov on his bed, Sulu prayed he wouldn’t have to clean up any vomit. Not that Chekov couldn’t hold his liquer, but the drinking game had veered off of pure drinking and into strange combinations of food with alcohol. It made Sulu sick just to look at what they were eating, much less eat it himself.  
He went into the bathroom and started brushing his teeth. When he heard a thump, he spit out the toothpaste.  
“If you break anything of mine in there you’re paying for it.”  
He didn’t get a response. Chekov had probably fallen asleep. When Sulu finished getting ready for bed, he inspected the room. Nothing seemed broken, but Chekov was half-on, half-off his bed and struggling to get his pajama pants on over his shoes. Sulu sighed and tugged Chekov’s shoes off, setting them neatly by his suitcase. Finally, all was well and Sulu was able to climb into bed. He was pretty exhausted and was dreading the early wake-up.  
Uhura had helped Kirk clean up the remnants of the night’s activities while Scotty splashed some water on his face. She bid goodnight to them both and headed up.  
“You look a bit rough, Scotty,” Kirk said, smiling. “You might want to head up soon.”  
“Yeah,” agreed Scotty, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m beat. See you, Jim.”  
“See you.”  
They headed their separate ways. Kirk went up to his room, hoping that Bones’s hypo had done the trick. When he spotted Spock konked out on his bed, he breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing like clammy Vulcan cuddling to make you question your life decisions. Kirk got his stuff in order and hopped in bed, falling asleep almost immediately. All was well in this corner of the universe.  
The beeping of the alarm clock at 0400 was definitely one of the more unpleasant sounds Joanna had heard in her lifetime. She turned the alarm off, rubbed her eyes, and sloggishly rolled out of bed. There was a coffee maker in the room and she turned it on, needing some caffeine to help her fully wake up. Her dad sighed awake and took a gander at the alarm clock. Flicking the bedside light on, his voice was groggy as he said, “Morning.”  
Joanna smiled. “Barely.”  
“Can’t argue with that,” McCoy said, getting up and beginning to get dressed. Joanna had planned enough time for a shower in the morning and grabbed her clothes, heading for the bathroom.  
“Don’t take too long in there, darlin’.”  
“I won’t.”  
Kirk’s alarm went off and he smacked it so hard it fell of the stand. He took a huge risk in even setting one - it might wake Spock up, after all - and he was definitely not going to let that happen. He stood still as a pane of glass in a museum case, eyes fixed on Spock to detect any sign of wakefulness. He crept closer, peering intently. Spock was still sleeping; Kirk was safe. He took a cold shower and made some coffee then went downstairs to see if he could grab any food.  
Surprisingly, the lady at the desk was sitting there and the breakfast was all set up. Kirk was impressed and tried to remember to give this hotel a good review. He waved to Joanna and Bones and got himself a bowl of fruit loops.  
“Hey there,” he said, then turned to Joanna. “You all ready?”  
“Yep. Kind of sad to miss the rest of today, but - y'know. S'okay.”  
“I know the feeling.”  
They ate their breakfast in relative silence.  
“Spock okay?” McCoy asked, sipping a second cup of coffee.  
“Yeah. I thought he’d wake up with the alarm but he’s out like a light.”  
“Good. Don’t think I could take any more of his cuddling. Eugh.” McCoy shivered.  
Uhura came down, then Chekov and Sulu a bit later. They ate, talked, and looked rumpled together until it was time for Joanna to leave. Bones and Kirk helped her get her things down and they all stood outside the hotel as she waited for her cab.  
“Thanks for waking up so early, guys, I really appreciate it.”  
“Oh, no problem.”  
“Don’t mention it.”  
“Yeah.”  
When the cab arrived, Joanna put her stuff in the boot and then turned to each person in turn. She hugged Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov gave her a kiss on the cheek. Kirk shook her hand and Scotty patted her on the back. Bones, who was trying not to tear up, gave her a crushing hug and said he’d call her. As she was driven out of view, everyone felt a strange lightness akin to that when you cut off a lot of your hair. It was bittersweet. It was also 5:00 in the morning.  
“I’m going back to bed,” muttered Chekov as he slipped back upstairs. Sulu grabbed some coffee and sat out on the back-porch area. Kirk could tell Bones needed some time alone so he went back upstairs to double-check that Spock was still knocked out.  
Sulu often had his coffee black and bitter, but he actually liked it better sweet. This time he remembered to dump in a packet of sugar or two before he headed out to the back-porch. It’s calming to watch the sunrise, especially when you’re feeling a little unsettled. Sulu sat down in one of the deck chairs (coincidentally, the one that Joanna had sat in the day before) and watched the pink light spread above the tops of the trees.  
After checking on Spock, Kirk went out on the balcony, sat down, and played his game. His annoyance at Spock for stealing the game was fading into exasperated fondness. Though it was difficult to remain angry with someone you cared for like a sibling, getting angry in the first place was easier than you’d think. Such small things could set one of them off - a missing communicator, a smudged mirror, a thermostat turned too low. Kirk supposed that was just part of the joy of living with other people.  
When he’d been at the Academy, he had a room mate his first year who would give the most terrible cold shoulder if Kirk left the window open at night. Kirk thought it ridiculous then, but was slowly getting to understand the feeling. Perhaps it had something to do with who you were living with.  
“'Ello,” said Scotty, sitting down beside Sulu.  
“Hey. Beautiful sunrise this morning, eh?”  
“Mmm.”  
Sulu chewed at his lip and watched orange permeate the pink. He was going to miss Joanna. Despite not being as close to her as Chekov was, it never felt good to say goodbye to friends. Scotty had a glass of apple juice and sipped at it intermittently.  
“Don’t you have a headache or anything?” asked Sulu.  
“Eh?”  
“Oh, I mean - after the game last night with Chekov.”  
“Oh, aye. I had a slight twinge earlier but it’s gone now.”  
“Ah.”  
They sat in silence, watching the sky.  
Meanwhile, Chekov was downing a couple of antacids with water from the bathroom sink. The food from last night had taken its toll on him. Not only did he have to try a fried twinkie - which actually wasn’t that bad - but he’d had about a cup of straight lemon juice. He sat down on the bathroom floor with his head against the wall.  
“Nnnnngghh,” he groaned.  
Uhura was busy finishing up a report she had due the next day. She hadn’t yet been late on her work and wasn’t going to start now. The sun rose higher in the sky and the clock read 5:45 - 6:00 - 6:15 - 6:30. She reviewed her writing, revised a few sentences, and submitted it. Checking the weather for the day, she decided she’d go swimming. It was supposed to be about 80 degrees and she wasn’t going to miss out on such a nice last day of shore leave. She put on her swimsuit - a black one-piece with gold highlighting - and headed downstairs with a towel.  
McCoy was not upset. He could handle this perfectly fine. So he wasn’t going to see Joanna for at least another year - big deal. He’d dealt fine with not seeing her for seven years; he could handle one more. This internal monologue, however, did not mesh with the tears pricking at his eyes or the lump in his throat that refused to be swallowed. He sighed frustratedly and took a swig of the Shirley Temple he’d ordered. The cherry bumped around in the glass when he swirled it. This wasn’t working - he needed a distraction.  
The book! He’d completely forgotten about Spock’s little black notebook in the commotion that morning. It was still up in his room in the pocket of his jacket. Setting a tip on the counter, McCoy headed to the elevator.  
Kirk checked his watch and decided that a reasonable amount of time had passed for Bones to sit and wallow. He left his game on his bed and headed a couple doors down to McCoy’s room.  
“Bones?” he called, knocking.  
“Just a sec,” Bones replied, coming to the door. “Boy, am I glad to see you. I have just about the biggest dirt on the crew you could wish for. Come in, quick.”  
McCoy checked the hallway to make sure no one had overheard and shut the door behind Kirk, locking it just to be sure.  
“What’s the dirt?” Kirk asked and sat down on McCoy’s bed. McCoy grabbed the book from where he’d left it on the desk and held it up like a lost artifact.  
“This here is Spock’s record of all that the crew say or do. It starts a couple weeks ago, just when Joanna came along. The amount of information in here is ridiculous; the man’s a stalker, Jim!”  
Kirk had been skimming through several pages of the book and his eyebrows had been steadily climbing higher and higher on his head.  
“Is this for real?”  
“It’s for real, all right. I found it in his suitcase before he just about cuddled me to death.”  
“Geez. Look at this,” Kirk said, indicating one of the entries. “'Stardate 1646.2 - Captain negotiating with Romulan vessel - conversation between me and you - Sulu to impulse control - wow.” Kirk was secretly impressed by the throughness of Spock’s reporting. Not that he’d expected anything less, but still.  
“It gets better, Jim. Look at this,” Bones said, indicating an entry from a week ago. “It’s a conversation between Joanna and Chekov.”  
Kirk looked at the entry. It ran as follows:  
JOANNA (clothed in one of the Captain’s flannel shirts and a pair of his jeans): Geez, Chekov, be quiet! My dad’ll hear us! [laughter]  
CHEKOV: I know, I know, just [gestures with hand] you look ridiculous.  
JOANNA: Well it’s not my fault I’m smaller than Kirk! Gosh.  
CHEKOV: I can’t believe we got away with this.  
JOANNA: We didn’t get away with it yet. We’ve got to get Sulu to take the video first.  
CHEKOV: Yes - hang on, there he is. Sulu!  
[Sulu comes over]  
SULU: Well. [looks at Joanna] I’d never be able to tell it was you. [sarcasm]  
JOANNA: Shut up. Let’s get this over with; these things are itchy.  
CHEKOV: He’s probably got some lady’s hair all over it.  
SULU AND JOANNA: Ewww!  
CHEKOV: It’s true! You know what the captain is like.  
SULU: Good point.  
JOANNA: [looks with disgust at clothing] Yeah, but - whatever. Just save the gross remarks for when I’m out of these.  
CHEKOV: Okay.  
SULU: You ready?  
JOANNA: Yep. Roll film.  
[Sulu films Joanna acting in a derogatory way towards the Captain. She mocks him for his actions (pretends to kiss several women and pretends to be on the bridge, speaking to myself and Sulu); Chekov and Sulu find this amusing]  
SULU: Okay, that was great.  
JOANNA: You think so?  
CHEKOV: Definitely. You’re like a natural at this stuff.  
JOANNA: Thanks. [smiles at Chekov]  
SULU: So… shall I post this?  
JOANNA: Sure. Just make sure Kirk, my dad, and Spock can’t see it.  
SULU: Gotcha. Pavel? [hands recording device to Chekov]  
CHEKOV: [posts video and adds viewing restrictions to keep Kirk, McCoy, myself from viewing] Done.  
JOANNA: All right, let’s get out of here. I want to bleach myself. Ew.  
CHEKOV: [laughs] Good idea.  
SULU: See you! [leaves in bridge direction]  
CHEKOV AND JOANNA: [head in direction of Joanna’s quarters]  
Kirk finished reading the entry, brow furrowed and feeling slightly offended.  
“Well?” he asked McCoy.  
“Well what? I’m a doctor, d—it, not a hacker. I can’t get at the video without Chekov’s help.”  
“That’s not what I mean! Your daughter has insulted me.”  
“Well the insults are not over with yet, Jim. Once I get at Chekov, we’ll watch that video and take it down.”  
“Good. Geez, I can’t believe they did this.”  
“I can, but I’m not happy about it.”  
“Well, yeah, I mean I can believe they did it because I see factual evidence that they did - but I sure as h— am not giving any extra shore leave days to Sulu and Chekov.”  
McCoy shrugged. “Their fault.”  
Sulu knocked on his and Chekov’s door.  
“Pavel? You good in there?”  
He didn’t hear a response. Half of him was happy as that most likely meant that Chekov was asleep, but the other half of him immediately went into panic mode. He opened the door and went in, heart thumping.  
Chekov wasn’t on his bed. Where was - bathroom. There he was, slumped against the wall, still a little green around the gills, fast asleep. Sulu didn’t really want to carry Chekov; he was tired and Chekov wasn’t light. But he couldn’t just leave him on the bathroom floor…  
Sulu sighed. The joy of being Chekov’s friend. He picked him up and plopped him in his bed. He sat down and started nodding off in the chair. He was jerked awake, however, when a knock came at the door.  
“Open up, in there!” It was Kirk.  
“Captain? Just a moment,” Sulu said groggily, standing up and going to the door. Kirk was there with McCoy, both scowling dark and nasty. “What is it?”  
“We know about the video,” growled McCoy.  
Kirk folded his arms across his chest and tried to look menacing.  
“What video?” asked Sulu, geniunely at a loss.  
“The one where Joanna is wearing my clothes and mocking me.”  
“Ohhhh, that video,” chuckled Sulu awkwardly. “Yeah, that was…yeah…”  
McCoy raised an eyebrow. “You gonna let us in?”  
Sulu looked behind himself at Chekov.  
“Oh, uh, Pavel’s asleep -”  
“Wake him up. We’ll need him.”  
“Okay - sure.”  
Sulu walked over to Chekov’s bed and poked Chekov in the shoulder several times.  
“Pavel!” he hissed. “Wake up!”  
Chekov mumbled something and turned over.  
“Pavel!” Sulu shook his shoulder.  
“Nnnnhh - go - away,” muttered Chekov.  
“Well, you leave me no choice,” said Sulu. He leaned down and opened one of Chekov’s eyes. The eyelids separated muddily and one brown eye glared out at him.  
“Don’t ever do that again,” grumbled Chekov. “What do you want?”  
Sulu gestured at McCoy and Kirk, standing beside the bed. Chekov started and sat up.  
“Oh, hello Captain - Doctor.”  
“Chekov."   
McCoy’s eyes were slits. Chekov self-consciously ran a hand through his hair.  
"Uh…” Sulu fidgeted.  
“We know about the video, Chekov,” Kirk said darkly. Chekov blanched.  
“Oh, that little thing? That’s, uh - that was just - a little - joke…?”  
Kirk raised his eyebrows. “Really?”  
“Yes,” said Chekov firmly.  
“We’re taking it down. Or rather, you’ll do it for us,” McCoy asserted, stepping forward.  
“And why should I do that?” asked Chekov, eyes narrowed.  
“Because if you don’t I’ll never give you and Sulu shore leave at the same time ever again,” Kirk threatened.  
Sulu and Chekov eyed each other nervously. Chekov raised his eyebrows a fraction and Sulu nodded.  
“Okay, I’ll do it, just - let me get my phone.”  
Chekov slid off the bed and walked past Kirk, McCoy, and Sulu to his suitcase. His phone was underneath some shirts and a pair of sweatpants. When he got it in his hand, he pulled up his YouTube-XVII account and took the video down.  
“There. Done. Now why couldn’t you just get it taken down yourselves?”  
Kirk looked at McCoy in surprise. “We could do that?”  
“I guess. I hadn’t tried. I’m not really good with these things; I’ve always just gotten Spock to do them for me.”  
“Speaking of Mr. Spock,” began Sulu warily. “Is he alright?”  
“He’s good,” said Kirk. “Just asleep and still drugged up. Apparently his special Vulcan genes won’t clear the drug from his system as fast as a human’s would.”  
“Hm. I’ll have to make a note of that.”  
“Well, I love your company but if you two are done here then…?” Chekov gestured to the door.  
“Oh, yes - of course. Thank you for your cooperation.” Kirk and McCoy left, a trifle sheepishly.  
Sulu turned to Chekov. “Geez.”  
“Tell me about it.”  
“Oh, by the way, I met Uhura when I was coming up here and she said she’s going for a swim and asked if we’d like to join her.”  
Chekov brightened visibly. “Sure! You want to?”  
“Fine with me.”  
“Cool,” grinned Chekov. “I’ll get my swimsuit on.”  
After Sulu left Scotty, the latter had stretched like a cat and closed his eyes in the warm sunlight. Due to spending most of their time in a starship, where there was definitely no sunlight, most of the crew looked pale and pasty if they didn’t invest in sun lamps or tanning lotion. Scotty got a rash from tanning lotion and didn’t like sun lamps, so good ol’ sunlight was his only option. He felt the freckles forming on his skin as time ticked on.  
“Oh, hello,” said Uhura as she walked onto the back-porch. “I didn’t know you were out here.”  
Scotty opened his eyes and smiled at Uhura.  
“Yeah, I’ve been out here for a wee bit - not too long. You going for a dip?”  
“Mm-hmm.”  
“That’s nice. The water’s quite warm, or at least it was yesterday.”  
“Good.”  
Uhura took off her cover-up and slid off the edge into the water. It WAS warm. Dipping under the water, she slicked her hair back and swam around a bit. It was nice to get some exercise outside of a gym.  
After a couple of minutes, Chekov stepped through the sliding door and onto the warm concrete, Sulu right behind him.  
“Hey,” greeted Uhura. “You guys coming in?”  
“Yep,” said Sulu.  
“And the captain said he’d come in, too, last I heard,” said Chekov. “Do you know what he did?”  
“What?” Uhura smirked and swam over to the edge of the pool where Chekov and Sulu were getting in.  
“He got me to take down that video from last week. You know, the one where Joanna’s wearing his clothes and pretending to be him.”  
“Oh, yeah, that one. Gee, that sucks. I swear that video was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”  
“I know, right?” Sulu slipped off the edge and into the water. “Oh, well. I think most everybody saw it already, though, so it’s alright.”  
“Yeah.”  
Chekov got in too and the three of them swam around for a while in peace. Then, Chekov glanced at Sulu out of the corner of his eye and splashed him.  
“Hey!”  
Chekov started giggling and swam away. He went underwater and surfaced behind Uhura, dunking her head in the water.  
“Pavel! Geez!”  
Uhura and Sulu started chasing Chekov then and he just kept cackling. Sulu tried to aim a splash of water at Chekov, but Chekov ducked and the water hit Uhura. It was every man for himself, then. Scotty watched on fondly as the shrieks pierced the air.  
When Kirk came out, dragging a reluctant McCoy behind him, the three swimmers paused in their war. They glanced at each other in turn. Sulu swam up in front of Kirk.  
“Hello, Captain.”  
Just as Kirk was about to reply, however, Uhura got him in the face with a big wave of water. McCoy, who’d been dipping his toes in the water, jumped out and scrambled backwards.  
“Oh, no - no way am I getting in the middle of this mess!”  
“You can’t just leave me, Bones!”  
Kirk grabbed McCoy’s ankle and dragged him into the water, kicking and screaming.  
“Jim - Jim, no! - noooo!”  
Scotty was laughing and McCoy glared at him.  
“Watch it, you,” he threatened, flicking water at Scotty’s toes.  
Kirk swam over and splashed Uhura. Sulu retaliated - McCoy got Chekov - Chekov dunked Kirk. Time passed, and the morning slipped away. Scotty went and asked the lady at the desk for a plate of sandwiches and brought them out. Sulu and Chekov rested their elbows on the edge of the pool and ate their sandwiches, smiling. McCoy was still grumbling but was happy.  
When Spock woke up, he felt unsettled. There was a slight knawing in his stomach and he had a headache. He could hear screeching coming from outside and stood up, going to the balcony. When he stepped out, the sun hit him pleasantly and he looked down to see everyone - even Scotty - playing around in the pool. Uhura spotted him and pointed him out to Kirk and McCoy, who waved up at him.  
“Spock, come on down! The water’s great!” Kirk called out.  
Spock made a vague inclination of the head that could either mean 'yes’ or 'I can’t hear you.’ Kirk turned away and continued splashing around.  
Spock didn’t like shorts. He was cold most of the time and the act of further baring his skin was extremely unpleasant. It was a warm day, though, and if he could stretch out in the sun it might be nice to feel the light hit him without clothing interfering. Still, there was no way he was going in the pool.  
When he got downstairs, clad in a pair of black regulation shorts and a purple t-shirt of Jim’s that had been handed down to Spock when it didn’t fit Jim anymore, he first grabbed three bananas and an apple. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday, after all.  
“You look like the Hulk!” cried Chekov when he saw Spock sit down on a deck chair. Spock just raised an eyebrow and stretched out in the warmth.  
“He does, doesn’t he?” murmured Sulu.  
“Well, aren’t you gonna come in?” asked Kirk playfully.  
Spock raised an eyebrow and Kirk shrugged, giving it up. It was useless to try and persuade Spock to do something he didn’t want to do. He watched Spock relax in the sun for a moment or two, then turned back to the pool.  
“Alright, teams or every man for himself?”  
Several hours later, Chekov was trying to knock water out of his ear. He’d taken a shower and Sulu was in there now, both racing the clock to finish packing up before the ship left. Chekov had put all of his clothes away and his suitcase was sitting ready near the door but he still had a persistent feeling that he’d forgotten something. He had his toothbrush, pillow, book, vodka, stuffed animal - oh! He’d left his potted plant on the window sill. One would think that Sulu would bring plants everywhere, and he did, but whenever he took one on shore leave he would always give it away to whomever he’d hung out with most, which meant that Chekov had many more plants than he’d like to admit. It would be a terrible snub to forget it, and he liked the little cactus (it was easier to care for than Sulu’s favorite exotic orchids), but he didn’t think he had any room for it.  
“Hikaru?” Chekov called through the bathroom door.  
“Yeah?”  
“Do you have any extra room in your stuff? I don’t think I can fit my plant in.”  
“Oh - um, let me check - hang on.”  
There were muffled sounds of scrubbing and clothes rustling and then Sulu opened the door and stepped out, hair wet and sticking at odd angles.  
“I might have some space in here - nope, that’s all filled up, just a sec - mmm, no - nnnnooooo - nope,” Sulu turned to Chekov apologetically. “Sorry, I got nothing. Maybe someone else will have some room?”  
“Okay, yeah, I’ll go check.”  
Chekov quickly left the room, trying to remember who from the crew had the closest room to his and Sulu’s.  
McCoy opened the door and was surprised to see Chekov there, wringing his hands and looking pretty obviously distressed.  
“Doctor McCoy, I know we have had our differences -”  
“I’ll say,” McCoy muttered.  
“ - but I have a little problem and I would very much appreciate your help. See I have this plant from Sulu and I want to keep it but I just don’t have any room in my bags and Sulu doesn’t either and I can’t just carry it with me so I was wondering if you had any room in your bags or if Captain Kirk has any room?”  
Chekov chewed his lip as McCoy processed the request.  
“Hang on, kid, I’ll go see.”  
McCoy turned and looked through his bags. Kirk had gone to put most of their stuff on the bus to the transporter already, but he did have one extra bag. It was small, originally brought to carry a belated birthday present for Joanna that had already been given, and wasn’t currently being used by McCoy. He grabbed it and handed it to Chekov.  
“Here. Don’t break it.”  
Chekov’s face lit up in a big grin. “Thank you very much, Doctor, I will not forget this.”  
“Now hurry up and get your stuff packed; the bus is leaving soon. And tell Sulu that, too!”  
Chekov nodded and ran back down the hallway towards his room. McCoy shook his head and mumbled something about d— kids and their poor packing skills. Kirk walked briskly down the hallway and caught McCoy’s eye, confused about why he was standing in an open doorway without apparent purpose.  
“Hey,” he said, coming over.  
“Hey,” Bones replied, stepping out of the way for Kirk to get into the room. “Chekov’s just been here; borrowed a bag.”  
“Ah,” said Kirk. He grabbed several more bags and asked if that was all.  
“Yep - and thanks for helping with my stuff. I appreciate it.”  
Kirk smiled at his friend. “No problem.”  
“Hikaru! Hikaru, I’ve got a bag!” Chekov burst into the room, shouting and frantically grabbing for the cactus. Sulu slid neatly out of Chekov’s way and watched amusedly as the latter placed the plant inside the bag with the care of an unlucky man who’s just found a hundred-dollar bill.  
“That’s good,” Sulu watched as Chekov placed the plant with his other belongings. “We ready to go, then?”  
“Unless you have some extra, hidden stash of plants somewhere,” Chekov teased with a smile.  
Sulu rolled his eyes. “Nah, that’s too predictable. I’d have a hidden stash of fish.”  
“Fish?!” Chekov scrunched his nose up. He did not like fish.  
“Oh, yeah.” Sulu jumped his eyebrows. “Swordfish.”  
“Ohhh,” Chekov relaxed his features. “You rascal.”  
They carried their bags down and set them down near the middle of the bus where they would sit. Almost everyone else was ready. Only Scotty was missing and he’d just left for one last bathroom break.  
Travel times didn’t usually last very long in the 23rd century, but part of the beauty of this planet was its dedication to the authentic. The only way to get to the hotel outside of directly beaming there was to ride for four hours on a bus that came once every Saturday. If anyone got left behind, it’d take a while to get them back. Spock pointed this out to Kirk, whom he was sitting next to. McCoy had opted to sit on his own, with his feet up on the seat, to try and get some shut-eye.  
“Spock, everyone is on the bus. We counted already and we’ll count again. Quit stressing.”  
“Vulcans do not stress, Captain.”  
“Still on shore leave, Spock, and of course they don’t.”  
Kirk slumped down in his chair, looking moodily out the window. He was a little tired of Spock’s backchat after all the trouble he’d caused. Weren’t shore leaves supposed to be relaxing?  
Spock looked at Kirk out of the bottom corner of his eye and resigned himself to dealing with more unpredictable emotionality. The bus would pull out soon and then the landscape would skip by their eyes, drawing them ever closer to the comfortable groove of regular duty. Spock closed his eyes and thought.  
The bus’s engine turned on and it slowly backed out of the parking space. The highway called to the rubber wheels - urging them on, daring them to go farther, faster. Birds lifted from the spongy grass and tossed themselves over the tops of clouds, catching each other on air currents.  
McCoy leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. His eyes followed the relaxing up-and-down flow of the black electrical wires above the road.  
Uhura had toed off her sneakers and was curled up against her friend, sharing an earbud and listening to some indie rock band.  
Time passed…  
Spock watched the way Jim’s eyelids compressed and released while he was dozing momentarily. He had longer eyelashes than Dr. McCoy, and his face was less wrinkled (though there was something comforting in the knowledge that each smile on the doctor’s face fit into the same shape as the thousands before it; a knowledge that you were not the only face he’d smiled at like that - that there were others out there who’d been the recipient of it). Kirk’s smiles were more impish and mischievous. They were meant to be felt on his face but not necessarily seen by those outside of his exclusive in-group. Kirk did not have hardly any wrinkles on his face. Spock traced the line of Jim’s hair with his eyes and tried to catalogue the angles of symmetry.  
Chekov had stared at the ceiling of the bus for nearly an hour now. He’d let Sulu have the window seat and was slightly regretting it now. Chekov had thought that Sulu would like to watch the different plants whiz by, but all he did was curl his shoulder against the bus wall and go to sleep! Chekov shot him a dirty look - not that he’d see it, but still - and leaned his head back against the seat cushion. The bus ride wasn’t supposed to be a whole lot longer, just another two hours. Chekov wished he’d brought some music.  
Uhura’s friend’s music had switched to some smooth jazz collection and the timing of the saxophone was nearly aligned to the methodical whirr of the bus wheels. If she leaned her head just a little, Uhura could see past her friend’s hair and look out the window. There wasn’t much to see that she hadn’t seen for the entire bus ride (the scenery wasn’t very diverse) but the sky was beginning to darken and Uhura wondered if that might delay the ride. She dismissed the thought, however, when a very pleasing chord was struck and her mind cleared.  
McCoy scratched at his nose. He was beginning to admit that he missed Joanna. He’d gotten closer to her during the couple of weeks that she’d been with them, and he wasn’t dealing too well with the separation. Losing a child once is bad enough, but having to give them up a second time is practically torture. She looked a lot like Jocelyn except for her eyes - a bright blue like her dad’s. McCoy opened up a book and told himself he was reading as his eyes retraced the same paragraph without comprehension.  
Kirk woke up with a quick gasp. A huge thunderclap had sounded very near the bus and he’d jolted awake with such force that his knee had smacked against the back of the seat in front of his, which was occupied by some Lieutenant or other from Engineering. He apologized and rubbed the offending kneecap sorrowfully. Spock had been watching him all the while and he met his eyes at last, raising one at Jim’s pained expression.  
At the sound of the thunder, Chekov closed his pocket edition of Solzhenitsyn stories and looked around. The sky had darkened considerably since he’d decided to fish the book out of the bottom of his bag and it was almost impossible to see the words on the page in the low light. Sulu blinked awake and peered at Chekov through his eyelashes wearily.  
“What was that?” he asked, voice croaky with sleep.  
“Just thunder. You can go back to sleep.”  
“Mmm - okay,” Sulu mumbled, curling back into himself. The bus had left highway 43-6 and was now on 48-6, however, which meant the ride was considerably rougher. Sulu’s head banged against the metal side of the bus a few times before he sighed and shifted himself the other direction, halfway leaning against Chekov, who had himself angled so his back was towards Sulu and his feet were sticking out into the aisle a little. Sulu closed his eyes and started sleeping again. Chekov glanced over his shoulder at his friend and kept reading. He didn’t mind - he’d done that to Sulu countless times before.  
Uhura was right: the bus was delayed. She tried not to gloat too much on the fact to her friend, who’d been certain the storm was nothing serious, which was, in fact, the exact opposite of the truth. Rain pelted the bus at a nearly horizontal angle and wind rattled the glass in the window panes. The highway was on a large, flat plain and any lightning coming would almost certainly strike the bus. That’s why it was sitting, off to the side of the road, with the bus driver and some volunteers setting up some lightning rods around it.  
Spock scribbled some notes about the storm in a small field notebook he had. He couldn’t seem to locate his other notebook, and assumed it had gotten mixed up in the captain’s things. He would have to ask Jim about it later.  
Kirk had some words with the bus driver about the storm. He sat back down in his seat, wiggling past Spock’s knees on his way past.  
“She says it’ll take about three hours to blow over. That’ll put us at the Enterprise at around 9 o'clock tonight. It’ll be dark by then.”  
Despite the warm temperatures at the hotel, the planet was actually experiencing its winter currently and the hours of sunlight ranged from approximately eight-fifteen in the morning to six at night. Spock had noted this in the notebook that was in Doctor McCoy’s possession.  
“That is unfortunate.”  
“I’ll say. Hopefully everyone will get to sleep a little while we’re waiting.”  
Spock made a noise of agreement and looked out the front window at the grey-brown mess of storm outside.  
Two hours passed and the storm was still raging. Most everybody had fallen asleep except for Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and a couple of lower-ranking officers sitting in the back eating chips. Uhura and her friend had tugged their pillows down from the luggage compartments - Chekov and Sulu were asleep against each other’s backs - and Scotty was snoring next to an Ensign who looked bored.  
“D'you think we’ll get back soon, Jim?” McCoy asked. “I’m beginning to miss the smell of disinfectant and stupidity so prevalent in medbay.”  
“One would think such a competent physician as yourself would not allow the presence of inadequate professionals contaminating the sterile proficiency of the ship’s medical bay,” Spock said, not looking up from his reports.  
“Are you saying my staff is inade - wait, did you call me competent? That flower stuff must have scrambled your circuits more'n I thought it did.”  
“I was merely attempting to convey my appreciation of the fact that you are more skilled in your profession than -”  
“You bet I’m more skilled -”  
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Kirk interrupted. “This is not the time for arguing over Doctor McCoy’s medical proficiency. We all know he’s good at his job, otherwise he wouldn’t have been hired. Let’s focus on the task at hand, huh?”  
McCoy shut his mouth but shot a glare at Spock, who was looking past Jim out the window, inspecting the storm. He set his reports down and grabbed his field notebook, writing down some more observations about the intensity of the rainfall and the projected duration of the lightning. McCoy watched dully as Spock’s long fingers gripped the miniscule travel pencil awkwardly, forming tight, cramped letters more loopy and dragged out than Spock’s usual script. Spock’s eyes flitted over what he’d written, re-read it, and then moved to meet McCoy’s in an intense gaze that McCoy found embarrassing and hard to break. McCoy blinked several times and looked down, then away. D— Vulcans and their intense death glare.  
Kirk had commed the few crewmembers who had remained aboard the ship and notified them of the expected arrival time of the bus and crewmembers. He’d sent a report to Starfleet detailing the events of their trip and the reasons of their delay pulling out of the space-dock where they were scheduled to have left an hour ago. He’d given a five-star review to the hotel where they’d stayed, writing prolifically on the skills of that lady at the desk who had seemed to do everything perfectly. He did all this, and then his mind floated listlessly in boredom. Spock was not moving beside him, probably in some meditative trance or something. Kirk chewed a bit at his lip. Inside his bag he had some headphones and music, but he wasn’t exactly sure if, as the captain, he was allowed to restrict his ability to hear emergencies. Of course, he could always pass on that responsibility to Spock, but he didn’t want to seem like he always gave Spock the worst jobs. Besides, he wasn’t sure if his first officer was fully capable of calming and reassuring quite as much as necessary in the case of an emergency. Spock was great but his bedside manner was a bit lacking, whatever McCoy may say.  
Then again, it’s not like anyone was likely to get into trouble in a stopped bus in the middle nowhere while most everyone was sleeping. Perhaps he could just put one earbud in…  
McCoy gazed out the window and watched little droplets of water streak down the glass. He wondered if Joanna made it back alright, and if she was happy just then. Nestling his head in the crook of his shoulder, he closed his eyes and and tried to sleep. It was better than feeling lonely.  
Another loud thunderclap sounded treacherously close to the bus. It had been nearly three hours now since the bus had pulled over. Sulu awoke startled, about to sit up when he remembered that Chekov was still sleeping and it would be rude to jostle him awake when he was clearly tired. Sulu craned his neck and stared wide-eyed at the wind-blown plain outside the window. He whistled under his breath and hoped it would blow over soon. Being stuck in a bus was getting pretty old, especially since there was only one small, cramped bathroom that smelled like old ladies. Speaking of smells, Sulu could tell that someone on the bus had forgotten to put on deoderant before crawling under a fleece blanket and going to sleep, reeking of body odor. Just typical, that.  
Chekov’s breathing was regular and slow, his chest expanding and contracting against Sulu’s arm. Chekov didn’t smell bad. In fact, he actually smelled kind of nice. He’d run out of his own little travel pack of shampoo and borrowed some of Sulu’s, which had a nice earthy pine aroma to it. That and his sandalwood aftershave combined to create a very pleasant mixture that was vastly preferable to the stinky sleeper in row 8.  
Spock noted the way that Sulu shifted Chekov’s head so it rested less on the hard angle of his collarbone and more on the space between his shoulder and neck. Spock also recorded Sulu’s expression as he stared out the window and waited, bored. Kirk had been dozing lightly for several minutes next to Spock and Spock had already catalogued every important detail in the captain’s sleeping pattern, facial details, and manner of twitching when disturbed. In fact, Spock had gotten terribly, terribly bored of sitting next to Kirk. He looked over to McCoy, who was awake and looking melancholy. He’d moved so his feet were off the seat adjacent to his own, and Spock considered moving over there.  
McCoy was surprised when Spock sat down next to him, but not so surprised that he commented on it. Spock had most likely gotten bored with Jim - who, admittedly, was not great company at the moment - and decided to torment McCoy instead. He was probably going to scribble some devious notes in that little black book of secrets of his. Good thing McCoy had confiscated the other one. As soon as he could, he was going to incinerate the thing with a phaser and shoot the particles out into the vast void of empty space.  
“Doctor?” Spock addressed him quietly.  
“Yeah?”  
“It is not logical to continue worrying over the state of your daughter’s wellbeing. The probability of her being injured during her travels is less than 1.32%. You should be more concerned about yourself.”  
McCoy was a little annoyed at the way Spock phrased it, but he could tell when Spock was trying to be comforting.  
“Thanks,” he said, smiling. “Oh, Spock, have you ever tried rapini?”  
“Rapini, doctor?”  
“Broccoli raab. It’s this dark leafy Earth vegetable. I think you’d like it. Quite similar to some of your Vulcan plants.”  
“I shall have to try it. Is there a customary way to prepare the plant, or is it eaten raw?”  
“No, no, no - don’t eat it raw. You want to fry it in a little olive oil and mix in some parmesan and a little salt. Get it all soft and tender. My wife used to love it. I had to make it at least every week.”  
“Perhaps you could prepare some for me at some later date, when we are both aboard the Enterprise.”  
McCoy smiled at Spock. “I’d love to.”  
Spock was going to record the way McCoy’s eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, but decided he might not want to. The warm feeling he got in his chest when the doctor was genuinely kind to him was a perfectly adequate way to remember this moment.  
“Are you particularly fond of cooking, Doctor?”  
“Hm? Oh, yes, I suppose. I like grilling a lot, and I can cook a couple things pretty well. My best friend growing up was Italian so I know a lot of the dishes his mom would make him. Do you?”  
“I am not especially attached to the activity. I can never prepare the dishes quite like my father does and it causes me not a small amount of frustration.”  
“Isn’t frustration an emotional response?” McCoy teased.  
“It is a logical response when one’s desires are not met.”  
“I’m just pullin’ your leg, Spock, don’t worry. Did your mom like to cook?”  
Spock considered the question. His mother had had a large amount of difficulty adjusting to cooking with native Vulcan vegetables and spices, and thus was often unhappy with her results. Occassionally, however, she would return from a business trip with Sarek carrying with her a myriad of traditional Terran spices, such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and oregano. The cuisine she would prepare was not exactly palatable to Sarek, but Spock enjoyed the taste of the food more than he would like to admit.  
“She did. She was fond of incorporating Terran spices to traditional Vulcan dishes. My father was not very appreciative of the result, but I found them satisfactory.”  
“Ah, I can understand that. The first time I tried Andorian scallops I just about threw up on my plate.”  
Spock gave a small nod of his head to show his appreciation of the doctor’s plight. They continued sitting in silence for a while. Someone snored - probably Scotty, McCoy thought - in the back of the bus.  
“Do Vulcans have desserts, or are they too illogical?”  
Spock paused and he considered whether to give the doctor such sensitive information. Throwing caution to the wind, he spoke.  
“While there are no traditional Vulcan desserts, most find Terran chocolate to be quite…pleasant.”  
“Just pleasant?”  
“In addition to the taste, the chocolate effects the Vulcan physiology much in the same way as fermented grains acts on the human.”  
“You mean chocolate is like Vulcan liquor?”  
“In essence, yes.”  
McCoy smiled. He knew what he was getting for Spock’s birthday.  
“Doesn’t that cause any problems, though? What if you all went out for ice cream and came back smashed?”  
“That has been known to happen on multiple occassions.”  
“Are you serious?” McCoy scoffed. “Vulcans - THE Vulcans - getting hammered on ice cream?”  
“An incident similar to the one you just described was what gave my father the courage to propose to my mother.”  
“Your father asked your mother to marry him while drunk on chocolate ice cream?”  
“That is what I have just said.”  
“My God,” McCoy shook his head. “You are a wild bunch.”  
Kirk drifted in a half-awake state. Something was off. Was it the heat? No, that was normal. Possibly the cushion that was beginning to feel too lumpy and crushed to be comfortable. But that wasn’t it, either. Kirk’s eyelashes fluttered but remained closed. He took a deep breath - that’s what it was. Somebody had sprayed some air freshener on the bus and it was seeping into his nostrils faster than wine will on a new shirt.  
Kirk sat up. “Who sprayed what and why?”  
Uhura, who had woken up just a moment ago, raised her hand.  
“I did, Captain. Anthony over there was getting really smelly so I figured it would help everyone if I Febrezed it up in here.”  
“Where did you even get Febreze?”  
“The lady at the desk offered me some and I thought it might be useful, so…”  
“Ah. Well.”  
Sulu spoke up, “She didn’t do any harm, Captain. It was a lot worse before she sprayed it.”  
“Thank you, Mr. Sulu. Lieutenant, you did well.”  
Uhura smiled. “Thank you, Captain.”  
Kirk stretched his arms above his head. Spock wasn’t next to him. Jim looked around and spotted him sitting next to McCoy, engaged in a muttered discussion, and actually looking happy for once. Kirk smiled. He liked seeing his two friends being nice to each other. It was fun to tease them and egg them on, but that can get old after a while. Kirk listened for a moment - the thunder had stopped. The rain had actually slowed down quite a bit, as well. Just in time, too, because according to Kirk’s watch it was about 7:43 and they needed to hit the road. He went up to speak to the driver.  
“Hey, I think it might be good to start up again soon, don’t you think?”  
The bus driver looked up from the book she was reading and inspected the aftermath of the storm.  
“Yeah, I think that’d be good. I’ll go get those lightning rods.”  
Scotty was prodded in the back with a T'Pring’s can.  
“Whatdyawant?” he slurred, still tired.  
“The bus driver wants volunteers to go get the lightning rods,” one of the ensigns from the back, eating chips, said.  
Scotty pushed himself more upright and sighed. “Alright-y, then.”  
When Scotty and the other volunteers opened the door to get off the bus, a draft of cold air shot through the aisle, settling in amongst the riders and rousing everyone from a drousy half-awake state. Spock shivered involuntarily and shifted a minute distance closer to McCoy, who didn’t notice.  
After the lightning rods were brought back in and everyone was settled back in their seats, the bus rattled on and bumped back onto the road. The smelly sleeper from row 8 put away his blanket and made everyone scrunch their noses a bit, but now that the bus was running and the A/C was on, the smell dissipated quickly.  
Chekov sighed deeply as he woke up, rubbing at his eyes. He stretched his arms behind his head and grabbed the back of his seat. Sulu glanced at him and smiled.  
“Good morning.”  
“Shut up,” Chekov smirked. “You were asleep first.”  
“Yeah, but you slept longer.”  
“So?”  
“So you were more tired.”  
“And is that a bad thing?”  
Sulu opened his mouth to say something, then closed it.  
“That’s what I thought,” said Chekov triumphantly, waggling his eyebrows at his friend.  
Sulu shook his head fondly and crossed his leg, foot on his knee. Chekov put his arms down and watched the window past Sulu’s head. The muddy ground, the fading grey of the sky, the bent grass stalks - his eyes caught on them all as they sped on down the highway.  
Some people opened their windows a crack. The blurry sound of the wind rushing in was loud and distracting, though it was also calming and carried with it the fresh smell of grass after rain. It cleared out any unpleasant odors and left everyone feeling more ready for action. Uhura spotted several stars in the rapidly darkening sky. She was beginning to be excited about getting back onboard the Enterprise. Be it ever so humble…  
Spock was cold. The wind seemed to give the human crewmembers a sense of returning responsibility and gave them a more pleasant overall demeanor, yet Spock could not quite justify the shivers beginning to wrack his body. It started with his fingers, just little jerky movements, but then his jaw was jumping and his arms were shaking and McCoy was staring at him, eyes narrowed.  
“You cold, Spock?”  
“That is -” Spock’s voice was quivering a little and it annoyed him. “That is an illogical question as I am obviously experiencing discomfort at the present temperature.”  
“Gee, Spock, I’m just trying to be nice, here.” The blue in McCoy’s eyes seemed chillier than the air. But then - they warmed. “You want a blanket?”  
“I would be amenable to that suggestion,” Spock said around chattering teeth. He had scooted closer and closer to McCoy and was now nearly touching him, each shiver bringing him nearer to the warm body. McCoy dug around in the bag he’d taken down earlier that had his book, pillow, and blanket in case he’d wanted to sleep on the bus. Once it was free of the other items in the bag, he draped it over Spock, taking care to wrap the edges under Spock’s shoulders.  
Spock eyed the doctor from inside his blanket burrito.  
“Thank you.”  
“Don’t mention it.”  
Kirk looked at Spock all wrapped up in a blanket and smirked. It was kinda adorable, in a weird, green, overly-logical sort of way.  
“You ready to get back into the swing of things?” Sulu asked, turning away from the window and bringing Chekov out of his thoughts.  
“Oh, yes and no. I’m a little bit not ready to have to hide away my vodka, but I’m ready to go back to work, if that’s what you mean.”  
“Mm.” Sulu’s eyes drifted off of Chekov’s face as he thought about nothing at all, really.  
“What about you?” Chekov asked, head tilted a little to rest on the back of his seat. Sulu’s eyes met his again.  
“I’m ready, I think. Just have to put away my stuff and I’ll be all good to go.”  
Chekov smiled. “Yeah.”  
The bus turned off the highway and meandered through smaller roads for about half an hour. It paused at a stoplight, started up again, went on a freeway for a couple minutes, came back off it. Suddenly, as it rounded a curve, their destination rose up in view: a tall, silver-white building where they would be transported up onto the space-dock where the Enterprise was waiting. The bus pulled into the parking lot, the driver turned off the ignition, and everyone stood up.  
FIN.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading this! Please let me know what you liked/didn't like in the comments, I really appreciate it.  
> <3
> 
> -M


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